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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789943">A Credible Threat to Life?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/howverycliche/pseuds/howverycliche'>howverycliche</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Line of Duty (TV 2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Addiction, Anxiety, Gen, Panic Attacks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:27:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>37,764</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/howverycliche/pseuds/howverycliche</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Arnott had always been outspoken, confident, lively and frankly full of himself. Everything had changed after that fateful day in Nick Huntley's office block on Wiseman Avenue. Kate Fleming had been Steve's rock both personally and professionally. Is it Steve Arnott who puts a wedge between DI Fleming and her husband Mark? Or is it not just Steve who is fighting demons?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Arnott &amp; Kate Fleming, Steve Arnott &amp; Ted Hastings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A tie like a noose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was so upset at the lack of Line of Duty fanfiction that I thought perhaps its about time I wrote some myself. Pre-series Six this is a continuum of canon but I imagine that my theories/my AU will be very different to what Jed has written. I hope you nonetheless enjoy this delving into the sometimes forgotten person lives of those at the heart of Anti-Corruption Unit 12. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>FAO: All AC-12 Staff</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>It is with regret that as of Friday I intend to step down from my position as Detective Inspector of AC-12. I have thoroughly enjoyed the position, but I do not feel that I am the correct fit for the job.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>The position will be advertised internally and will be available, only to those who have already completed the Inspector’s Exam. As with every internal posting, you will be able to see the position on the Careers page and I am sure you will all agree – we have some excellent candidates in the department.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I will be sticking around – this is not a goodbye.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>For those looking for more information please visit: www.police.uk/careers/AC–12/Detective_Inspector</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Regards,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kate Fleming</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Detective Inspector </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anti-Corruption Unit 12</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>And just like that – Kate had stood down. If Steve had read the email once he had read it one hundred times. However many times he read it, he couldn’t for one second have envisaged that Kate would step down. Once upon a time he’d have hated her for this. He had so desperately wanted the job – and had even once thought that he was the more suitable candidate. That was until the attack. After his attack, everything changed for him and it was Kate had supported him and guided him when he was at his lowest ebb. He tried not to forget that and yet still, he was angry that Kate hadn’t told him about her decision. Whichever way he tried to consider it, however he tried to understand, Steve couldn’t see why Kate would step down. She had taken the position on for a number of reasons but especially in order to spend more time with her husband Mark and son Josh.</p><p>He had barely had a chance to gather his thoughts before the office gossiping began.</p><p> </p><p>“Sarge, have you seen this?” Tatleen appeared at Steve’s desk, pulling him from his racing mind, with her phone in hand, trying to grab his attention.</p><p>Steve looked at her in bewilderment, unsure of how to respond – surely he should have known? Surely everyone would assume that he knew?</p><p>“I- Tatleen I had no idea.” He pulled his hands through his hair as he showed a slight vulnerability to PC Sohota. “She didn’t tell me. I had no idea.”</p><p>He wasn’t sure if Tatleen was shocked that Kate was stepping down or that he was as shocked as her. Perhaps it was both? Sure, Tatleen was a junior colleague but she’d also become a friend to him during the investigation into Operation Pear Tree. She knew that Kate was a dear friend and valued colleague to Steve and how much Steve relied on Kate professionally as well as out with the office.  She gave him a small comforting smile and with a kind but caring rub to the shoulder, she walked off to discuss Kate’s resignation with some other colleagues, leaving Steve still trying to understand Kate’s reasons.</p><p> </p><p>Whilst all his colleagues tore at the new gossip like vultures surrounding a fresh carcass, he stood from his desk and grabbed his suit jacket. He couldn’t bear to be around it. He couldn’t bare the fact that she was standing down. Mostly, he couldn’t believe that she hadn’t told him. He needed fresh air. He needed air, <strong>now</strong>. Despite AC-12’s fifth floor location, for obvious reasons, he still hated to take the lift. He wished he could overcome the gut sinking feeling that the lifts gave him; the walk down the sixty stairs was always much more painful than he would <em>ever </em>admit, but he just couldn’t get into a lift alone without being consumed by fear.</p><p>He was almost relieved when he finally got down to the ground-floor and tapped his card on the gate to get out of the building. He was almost relieved because until he reached the outside, until he could take in some fresh air, the tightness in his chest would not subside – it was all that he could think about. The walk from his desk to the solace beyond the revolving doors had felt like a lifetime. <em>Out, in, out, in, out in. </em>He thought to himself as he finally leaned against the glass walls of the building, a short but far enough distance from the door. He hated feeling this anxiety, of course he did, but he hated looking weak even more. He grasped at his tie, pulling it down haphazardly, he fumbled with his top button, finally feeling the strangling arms of his anxiety subside as he dragged his shirt from his neck. <em>Out, in, out, in, out, in.</em></p><p> </p><p>As his breathing settled, Steve felt an ironic, desperate urge muster in his body. <em>Cigarette. He <strong>needed </strong>a cigarette. </em>He sighed, still shaky but a little calmer than before and reached into his navy trousers, pulling out the dark green packet. He felt shame as he took one of the white and orange sticks from the pack in the same way that he always did and yet when he placed it between his lips and as he took his first puff, it was <strong>almost</strong> as if his pain washed away. <strong>Almost. </strong></p><p>“Son I thought you we’re going to give up those bloody things?” Hastings’ disappointed voice appeared from the corner as Steve took a drag of the cigarette and as he shot a disappointed look towards him, in an instant, Steve’s momentary relief was gone.</p><p>“I know sir.” Steve replied, looking down at the ground, not quite sure how else to respond. He had only started the habit one day after seeing John Corbett’s jigsaw corpse and he had found the sweet relief of the nicotine shamefully addicting. Hastings, having been like a father figure to Steve, made a similar habit of voicing his continued disappointment about Steve’s smoking. Despite the judgement of others, Steve couldn’t find another solace quite like the comfort of a Marlboro Gold. Hastings scanned the younger man and immediately he could tell something was bothering him. It was evident that <strong>something</strong> had been bothering DS Arnott for some time, but he knew this was more.</p><p>“Are you alright son? Is this about Kate?” Steve briefly glanced at Hastings before looking down again, taking his final comforting drag on the cigarette before extinguishing it on a nearby ashtray.</p><p>“Sir, I don’t understand – why didn’t she tell me? I thought she liked being a DI?” Steve finally looked up at Hastings with a pleading, almost desperate look in his eyes but he could feel Hastings holding back.</p><p>“Steve, son…” Hastings’ tone was quiet and reserved – he was hiding something from him. There was a short silence before Ted could decide how to broach the subject with him. “You’ve been dist– “</p><p>“–don’t try to tell me this was about me!” Steve scathed in reply, his anxiety fuelling an outburst of anger towards his superior that took him a little by surprise – Hastings too was taken aback but he remained composed.</p><p>“Look son,” Hastings began in a collected tone, trying to calm the younger man. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but I have to direct you to asking Kate. It is not for me to share with you.” Hastings gave Steve a small smile before removing his hat in preparation for going inside. Steve didn’t know what to say – he wasn’t sure if he should say something more or if he should be worried about Kate, like he had any more room on his shoulders for any more worry. Before he could decide, Hastings turned his back to proceed towards the door before returning his gaze to Steve once more. “I’ll see you upstairs, okay?” He gave Steve a kind nod before disappearing into the office block. Steve was determined to understand Kate’s motivations – but first, he needed another cigarette.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Slowly Sinking, Wasting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Can Steve hide his own problems by helping Kate to solve hers?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This final cigarette had been more satisfying than the first. His long placating drags were just as much a stalling effort as they were for enjoyment. As he savoured every last puff, his gaze wondered to the bustling of the city centre. People rushing to their destinations, the sounds of cars whooshing and honking past. It was a strange thought that although he had stood, very clearly distressed, in such a public place, not one person had approached him, no one had looked up from their pinging phones to ask if he was okay. He was grateful, in a strange sense. He was sure that if someone had asked, if someone had noticed his pain, he was sure that he’d have started to weep, and he wasn’t sure if he would have been able to stop.</p><p>By the time he rose from his thoughts, he had barely the butt of the cigarette left to dispose of, alongside the now empty packet which had been full only that morning. He had only started smoking once or twice a week when things got on top of him but eventually he found things getting on top of him <strong>all of the time. </strong>He firmly pressed the butt onto the ashtray where he lingered for just a moment, desperate not to let go and admit that it was time to go back inside. With a knowing sigh, he dared to look up at the building; he knew that he had no option but to go back in. It was an effort to push his tie back into position and he decided that redoing his button was a step too far. Moving his shaky hand to his head, he swept back his hair, and then adjusted his jacket, composing himself to go back in.</p><p> </p><p>He had been lucky when he got to the lift door, thankful to see a colleague from the same floor waiting. He didn’t want to appear back in the office, out of breath as well as embarrassed. When he arrived on the fifth floor and tapped his card at the entry point, he could feel some eyes dart towards him. He felt the sinking shame return – he thought he had slipped away. Clearing his throat, he walked sharply to his desk, hoping that he could restart where he had left off without interruption. The shame he felt caused the ripples of anxiety to return. He felt as if he could be sick and that perhaps another cigarette would help but he couldn’t risk going back outside. He removed his fitted navy jacket and straightened his collar before inputting his credentials into his desktop. He had barely tapped the sign-in button before he heard a colleague coming towards him. He didn’t dare to look; he hoped that if he didn’t they would just leave him be. He wasn’t so lucky – he never was.</p><p>“Sarge?” It was a small but kind voice and without turning to see, he knew that it was the caring sound of Tatleen’s voice. He rubbed his brow momentarily, in an attempt to compose himself before turning round. The young woman looked at him in a motherly way, much kinder than before he had left. Clearly his composure had not improved. She lowered her voice to a whisper keen not to bring attention to her usually stoic superior whom she knew would not appreciate a scene, “are you okay? You left pretty suddenly – you look like you’ve seen a ghost…”</p><p>He so desperately wanted to ask for help. He liked Tatleen and it took him all his strength not to burst into tears right there but like he always did, he put DS Arnott before Steve – he couldn’t let a junior colleague know how much he was struggling. In fact, he wasn’t sure he could let any of his colleagues know. The shame was too much, so much that all the cigarettes in the world could not take it away.</p><p>“I’m fine, Tatleen. I just had an, um, urgent phone call to take. Family stuff.” He knew from the nervous look on her face that he hadn’t convinced her but despite caring for him, she was too nervous to question an authoritative figure. He wondered if she could tell that he would have erupted, either in anger or sorrow. He cleared his throat again, disrupting the awkward silence that had developed in the atmosphere. “Was that all? I have to get on.” He felt almost angry at himself for shutting her down and for not telling her his stomach was tied in knots, that he was so scared of going into a lift, that he endured the crippling pain of the stairs to get outside – that he had started to smoke twenty cigarettes by midday to try to block out his demons.</p><p>“Well actually Sarge, DI Fleming has requested you see her in her office.” Tatleen had been nervous to tell him. She was wary of his reaction, but he didn’t have the strength to question her and, if he was honest, he quite liked her and didn’t want to push her away too much. He nodded in confirmation to Tatleen and she walked into the distance. He glanced towards Kate’s office as he pulled on his jacket again. Of course, he and Kate were friends, but he had come to realise that he was her subordinate. He stood from the chair, pushing the chair in with his clammy hands and walked the short distance to Kate’s door. He wished it could be further away. Straightening his jacket once more, he took a deep breath in in a feeble attempt to calm himself down. <em>This is stupid </em>he thought, <em>Kate is your friend. </em></p><p> </p><p>He raised his fist to the tan door and his soft knock had him wishing that she would be too busy to talk. His anxiety only increased as he heard her usher him in and instinctively he pushed the door open, turning to face the door as he closed it, pausing momentarily to try to supress the nauseating feeling he felt taking over his entire being. When he turned, Kate was sat on edge of her desk, twirling a pen between her two fingers and for a second he surmised that his anxiety had gone undetected.</p><p>“Ma’am.” He muttered, almost inaudibly and mostly from habit.</p><p>“Steve, look, I’m sorry.” He finally looked to her face and he was relieved to see that Kate looked so wrapped up in her own mind that she had failed to notice how he felt. “I should have come to you first.”</p><p>Steve didn’t say anything – he wasn’t sure that he could. Kate stood from the desk, pacing a little. She had considered what she would say to Steve, but she hadn’t thought it would be this hard. Steve was like a feisty younger brother to her and she knew that he would be even angrier as soon as she explained her reasons for stepping down.</p><p>“Steve, I’m sorry I kept this from you, but this hasn’t really been easy for me.” Steve let out a scoff before he could even stop himself. He looked at her in disbelief, he just couldn’t fathom what could have made it hard for her. Her job was easy. She came in 9-5 while Steve and the DCs did all the real detective work. “Look Steve, I know I should have told you, but this really isn’t about you. It’s not always about you.”</p><p>Her stern tone was like a knife to his back and he felt his anxiety return to the surface again which suppressed his usual feistiness and returned him to his timid childlike state which seemed to dominate his life now. He felt his lungs clench in his chest, begging for some more relief and as he winced at her words, Kate finally noticed Steve’s demeanour. He looked smaller than usual, his forehead glistening with a nervous sweat and his hands dipped inside his pockets, one clenched around his lighter, the pockets, strangely empty without his cancerous companion. She softened her tone again and underneath her own turmoil she felt pain for her colleague. She hadn’t really considered how this would impact him, especially after all that he had been through.</p><p>“I’m sorry.” She said returning her voice to a kinder tone and this seemed to lift Steve from his anxiety and allowing him to return his façade. “It’s just… Mark and I… we’re splitting up.” He looked at her again and as he saw the pain on her face, his shame turned to a deep burning guilt. Had he been so pathetic and selfish that he couldn’t see Kate’s pain? Had he been so wrapped up in himself that she suffered in silence? He let out a sigh before finally breaking his silence.</p><p>“I’m sorry Kate. How are you coping?” It was a silly question – he knew that it was – but he didn’t know quite what else to say. She shook her head, a small tear escaping. “Kate…” He said wearily and extended his arms and surprisingly she fell into his arms without hesitation, the pressure of her body colliding with his caused a momentary gasp of pain but the embrace giving him solace as it did her. When he pulled away, he could tell that she had been crying and from being so close to her, he could see that she looked worn, tired. Before he could ask anymore, she wiped the tears and mascara stains from her face and stepped back.</p><p>“I stepped down because this, it isn’t as important as having a relationship with my son.” Steve cocked his head in understanding, any anger he felt before slipping away. She took in a deep breath before letting out a pitiful laugh. “You stink Steve.” He laughed, looking to the ground, appreciating the humour to break the atmosphere between the two broken souls.</p><p>“I’d offer you one but I’ve none left,” he said, mirroring her crooked smile. “You look tired.” His emission was kind in nature, but he knew that it had struck a chord in his colleague whose smile disappeared, returning her back to her sorrowful emotion. “Sorry I–… I didn’t mean to offend.” He could see tears threaten to spill again.</p><p>“No Steve, it’s not you.” She returned a kind smile to him again, aware something about him wasn’t right and yet still she couldn’t keep her tears at bay. “It’s Mark. He’s not going to let me see Josh. He’s sold the house. I– I don’t have anywhere to go…” Steve was shocked to see tears spill freely down her cheeks without her attempts to hide them. He couldn’t believe that Mark’d take away Kate’s beloved son. He first of all felt a great pain for Kate but moreover he felt a protectiveness for her and an anger towards Mark.</p><p>“You can stay with me.” He declared, flooring her with his offer. She looked at him, bewildered and ready to protest but he silenced her placing a hand up. “I insist.” He nodded and eventually she nodded back, which he followed with a soft giggle, much like hers before. “Plus I’m beginning to run out of my Fleming ready meals.” She giggled too, knowing that his comment had been one of a million thanks from him to her after the way she had looked after him following his accident: cooking him meals, helping around the house, taking him to work and his physio sessions.</p><p>“Well I wouldn’t want to be eating anything that you cooked, that’s for sure.” She laughed, prodding him in the side in jest, too wrapped up in her own emotion to notice how the small action made Steve wince. “Thanks Steve. You’re a good mate.” He looked to the ground again, the offhand compliment returning his nervous hands to his pockets, the jab of pain enough to remind him of his own misery. Kate finally saw beyond her own pain and flicked her index finger under his chin, forcing him to look at her. His gaunt expression accompanied by unruly stubble, dark bags under his eyes and his usually immaculate look spoiled by his flailing button.  “Are you alright mate?”</p><p>“I just need a cigarette…” He cleared his throat again, moving out of her gaze and pointing to the door. She sighed, pursing her lips together before nodding, allowing him to take yet another break. She knew he had taken too many small breaks today, and that he’d be longer this time, heading to the nearest shop to buy more but she felt she couldn’t say no to him. It was both as a side effect of his kindness but also she could tell that for some reason it wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge today. Just as he placed his hand on the handle she broke the short silence, deciding it’d be best to allow him some time off.</p><p>“See you at home Steve?” He looked at his watch, it was barely after twelve, he still had to work until at least five. He turned to look at her, aghast at her suggestion. He was about to argue his case, that he should stay and do his duties but a part of him just wanted to go home and smoke his pain away. She looked at him, a stern authority taking over her expression. “That’s an order Steve.” He nodded and his solemn gaze returned to the floor. “That way you can have a pizza ordered for when I get back.” She suggested with a soft smile and with that he disappeared to the nearest convenience store. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You Can't Play on Broken Strings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve and Kate enjoy a chilled out evening – but are they both being completely transparent with each other?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kate had watched as Steve gathered his things and slipped away from the office. She could see the crowd of PCs gossiping about Steve’s departure, fantasising about what may have happened, but she didn’t have the energy to politely ask them to stop. She sighed, heading to the tearoom not only to make herself a well-earned coffee but also to make sure she saw Steve safely heading away outside. Something about him was troubling her and she was determined to get to the bottom of it, if not for Steve then to keep her mind occupied. She placed her mug under the machine and let it brew as she watched the dejected figure of Steve, hands firmly in his pockets, head across to the small store just across the main road.</p><p>He hadn’t been in the shop long, less than a few minutes and he was barely outside before he had desperately ripped the package open and fumbled, quickly trying to secure one of the cigarettes between his lips. He leaned against the redbrick building, placing one foot against the structure and she noted the way he tore his police badge from his neck in frustration. She was taken from her thoughts by Tatleen who had arrived behind her in the tearoom. She had averted her gaze, trying not to take Tatleen’s attention towards Steve. She didn’t think he’d want anyone to know but it had been too late for Kate to hide it.</p><p>“Ma’am, I hope DS Arnott is okay?” Tatleen’s voice was kind as it always was, and Kate knew that PC Sohota’s intentions were sincere. She picked her coffee from the machine and shared a concerned look with Tatleen.</p><p>“I’m not sure Tatleen.” Kate didn’t know what else to say. “Can you do me a favour? Can you help me look out for him?” Tatleen organised herself a coffee too, nodding at Kate in the process and muttering an agreement. Kate knew that Tatleen could be trusted but just to make sure, she relayed the confidential nature of the matter and left the tearoom, heading to explain to Hastings that she had sent Steve home. She decided she’d tell Hastings that Steve would be working from home, rather than taking the day off, keen not to make a mountain from what was very possibly a molehill.</p><hr/><p>Steve had immediately driven home after his trip to the store, desperate for some solace and knowing he’d have to get the spare room set up for Kate’s arrival. It wasn’t only that, he knew that he’d have to tidy the place – she would have been hurt to see that he’d let the place go again. He sat at the wheel of his car for a few minutes, mustering the courage to walk into the building to head to his flat. He desperately hoped that a neighbour of his would arrive so he could take the lift to his flat on the second floor. Sure, it wasn’t that far but every step he took was agony and he suffered for every stair that he climbed. Despite waiting nearly twenty minutes, he hadn’t been so lucky, and it had taken him almost as long to get to his door.</p><p>By teatime, Steve’s flat may have been clean, but it was a long wag from tidy. He spent most of the afternoon making Kate’s bedroom liveable and it had exhausted him. Even with laundry waiting on his coffee table waiting to go into his wardrobe and clean dishes waiting to go into cupboards, his body was aching, and he couldn’t muster up the courage to do anything more. He hoped Kate would understand.</p><p>He sighed, lifting himself from his seat at the kitchen table, forcing his way through the sharp pain in his lower back and fighting the pained voices begging him to stay put. When he finally got to his feet, he steadied for a moment. He was thankful Kate had sent him home as by this time, if he hadn’t taken his painkillers, the pain was often so bad that he could barely move. After a few moments, he screeched in pain as he raised his arms above his head, retrieving his tramadol painkillers. He sighed, looking into the bottle. After this dose, there were only two left and he had been in so much pain recently, he had finished his prescription too soon. He placed the glass bottle on the table and filled a tumbler of water, returning to the table to take the pills. He was desperately waiting for them to kick in when his phone vibrated in his hands.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Kate: </em>
  </strong>
  <em>I’ll be over soon with my stuff Kx</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p><strong><em>Steve: </em></strong><em>No probs. Pizza on the way </em>🙂 x</p><p>He quickly placed the order online, remembering Kate’s favourite pizza from many late nights at AC-12. As the painkillers kicked in, he felt comfortable enough to rise from the chair and set them both a plate out and he set them both out a bottle of Peroni. He wanted to be outside, waiting for her when she arrived and so he pulled his jacket on and headed down the stairs.</p><hr/><p>She hadn’t been surprised when she found Steve, resting against the building with a trusty cigarette in his hand, puffing away. She wondered how many he got through in one day and how it was possible his lungs kept going. She refrained from saying anything though, just grateful he’d offered her a place to stay and cautious not to rock the boat. She smiled at him as she got out of her car walking to the back of her car to collect her suitcase.</p><p>“Thanks agin for this, Steve!” She smiled to him as she headed to the open the boot of her car. “Sorry, I’ve got quite a bit. I might be a few trips.” She pointed to the boot, full of cases and boxes. Steve walked over to the car, peering into the boot, seeing the boot full of Kate’s stuff.</p><p>“How much stuff do you need?” Steve laughed, looking at the boxes full of clothes and shoes.</p><p>“Is it too much? Do you want me to take it back?”<br/><br/>“Kate!” He laughed at her unusual innocence and shook his head at her. “Of course it isn’t you muppet.” He grinned at her, extinguishing his cigarette and preparing to help her. Kate shook her head and grabbed a case from the boot. Steve discarded his cigarette in a nearby bin and grabbed a case from the car. Kate walked away as he did, heading to the door. He winced as he took the case out from the car and it took everything in his power not to yell out in pain. He knew that he would feel that in a few hours when his painkillers wore off. He set the case on the ground very quickly, stretching his back to reduce his pain.</p><p>“Come on Steve!” Kate shouted happily from the door, much like a child calling on their parents. When he didn’t reply straight away, she turned to see where he had gone and she saw him stretching his back, clearly in pain. It had been the first time she had seen him in pain for a while and it took her somewhat by surprised. She abandoned her case at the glass door and headed towards him. “Steve? Are you alright?” She headed towards him to see if he was okay, but he pushed his hand out, stopping her coming any closer. He took a minute before nodding and took a deep breath.</p><p>“I’m fine.” He muttered, barely audible, finally looking up at his worried colleague, giving her a small smile which did nothing to convince her. She shook her head at him and took the case from him, pushing the boot door closed and locking the door.</p><p>“I’ll get it Steve. You go in.” She ushered him towards the door, refusing to take no for an answer, watching as he headed to the door, perhaps a little ashamed that he couldn’t help her.</p><hr/><p>Their pizza had arrived a short while after and they’d sat in the living room, eating the pizza, drinking some beers and having the best laugh either of them had had in a while. Steve had been lonely since Sam had left him and he was looking forward to Kate’s company and of course her cooking. Picking something from the takeaway menu was about the height of his cooking ability. Kate was also glad of the company. The distance between her and her husband with the added pressure of work had left her feeling quite isolated. As the evening crept to a close, they were both still sitting on the sofas, giggling and laughing and setting the world to rights.</p><p>Kate was the first to stand up, knowing that at midnight, she really should be in bed for work in the morning – detective work wasn’t easy. She stood from the sofa, taking the empty plates from the coffee table. “Let me clear this away. Back in a sec.” She headed through to the kitchen, placing the plates in the dishwasher and binned their rubbish. She also put away the pile of clean dishes above Steve’s dishwasher that he’d left there earlier that evening. At least cleaning up after Steve would keep her mind occupied. When she was finished clearing up, she flicked the lights off in the kitchen and walked back through to the living room. She chuckled quietly to herself upon her return. Steve had fallen asleep on the sofa with his limbs flailing off the end of the chair. She contemplated moving him for a split second but decided against it. Though she was sure his position would do his back no favours, she didn’t want to disrupt him. He looked happy and content, much like he had during the evening and she didn’t wish to wake him. She took the throw from the sofa and placed it over his peaceful body, quietly leaving the room, lightly flicking off the roof lights in an attempt to keep him asleep.</p><hr/><p>It must have been nearly three hours later when Kate awoke to a shattering noise. She forced open her tired eyes, picking up her phone to check the time. <strong>03:26. </strong>She decided to stay in bed and listen out for any further noises. It just sounded like a smashed glass, nothing more…</p><p>Steve had woken up at around three in the morning, and the first thing he had noticed when he woke up was that the burning, stabbing pain in his back had returned, only this time, his sleeping position had doubled, maybe even tripled his pain. He felt tears brim in his eyes as he tried to manoeuvre himself to seating position – he felt so helpless and <em>pathetic,</em> but this was the most intense pain he had felt for a <strong>long</strong> time. Eventually he managed to get himself sitting on the edge of the sofa, but he couldn’t stop the tears sliding down his cheeks. He tried not to make any noise. He wasn’t sure he could take any pity from Kate right now, no matter how well intentioned it might have been. He couldn’t believe that this was his life, a grown man crying on his sofa in the middle of the night. He was so ashamed of himself.</p><p>He finally mustered the courage to stand up from the sofa and it took everything in him not to yelp from the intense pain that he felt. As he limped to the kitchen, he violently wiped the wet tears from his stubbly skin. <em>You’re a mess</em> he thought to himself. He flicked the lights on in the kitchen, and the bright light momentarily blinded him, alerting him to the headache which he had. He pulled his hand across his sweaty face and in that moment he was <em>desperate</em> for his pain to stop. He just wanted his old life back. He looked to the cupboard above his oven and prepared himself for the pain that would ensue the minute he tried to reach into the cupboard. He took a deep and long breath in and then finally reached into the cupboard for the glass bottle.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Mr Steven Arnott</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Take one tablet every 4-6 hours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Take exactly as directed by your Doctor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you suspect you have taken too much, seek medical advice <strong>immediately.</strong></em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>He sighed, looking at the label, knowing this was the last two. He had taken them as directed initially until he found that just one pill did nothing for his pain. He started to take two rather than one. He knew It was wrong, he knew he should have asked his doctor – of course he did – but he just couldn’t take the pain. He didn’t know how we would cope after he took these last two pills. He had gone through this prescription almost twice as fast as he should have; there was no sane Doctor on the planet who would give him anymore as he well knew. He sighed, steadying himself against the kitchen worktop, pulling open the child safe lock on the medical bottle. His brain was clouded by pain and exhaustion and his hands slipped and he watched in vain and the brown bottle hit the tiled floor and it shattered on impact, sending the glass and two remaining pills cascading across the floor. He grabbed his glass of water, sliding down the kitchen counters and he began to sob. He was pathetic. <em>Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.</em></p><p>He sifted through the smashed glass on the floor, trying to find the two remaining pills, cutting several of his fingers in the processes. He hated the kind of man he had become. He was weak, vulnerable, pathetic… If he could be grateful for one thing though, it’d be that although he’d more than likely woken Kate up, she left him be. It was one thing accepting with himself how weak he had become but he wasn’t ready to let anyone else see him, a thirty-five-year-old man, surrounded by broken glass, searching around on the floor of his kitchen for some pills like some sort of addict with blood pouring from his hand. When he finally found the pills on the floor, he took them and not quite having the energy to clear up after himself or to stand whilst he was still in pain, he sat quietly sobbing in the mess and waited for the painkillers to kick in.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What did we miss?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Without his trusty painkillers, can Steve take another day of pain?</p><p> </p><p>Please let me know what you think in the comments :)!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve felt like he had sat on his kitchen floor for hours, staring at the mess surrounding him. He looked at his right hand which he used to scavenge the floor. Small cuts covered his fingers where small amounts of blood had congealed. He had one slighter larger cut protruding from the pad of his middle finger. The blood had poured down his arm and was still trickling down towards his elbow. He could see a small piece of the brown glass had become embedded in his finger. He sighed, finally having the strength to raise himself from the floor as his painkillers settled in. They may have taken the edge away from his pain, but it was replaced by a familiar dazed and dizzy feeling. He wiped his brow with his left hand and then grabbed his first aid kit from the cupboard, catching a glimpse of the clock as he did. <strong>05:34. </strong>He hadn’t realised he had been on the floor for so long and he was acutely aware that Kate would be up soon.</p><p>He set about cleaning himself up, the sharp pain from the cuts on his fingers pushing through his pain relief barrier. The small cuts were easily wiped, the browning blood easily washing away. The larger cut he thought that perhaps he should have looked at sooner, his arm saturated with a dark and aggressive blood. He tended to his arm first, clearing away the blood, bracing himself before he had a closer look at his finger. It was relatively easy to remove the small piece of glass, it had been slightly bigger than a small grain of rice so was easily removed with his tweezers, but he found that as soon as he did, blood began to spill out again.</p><p>“Shit.” He muttered to himself, pressing the alcohol wipe against the cut. As he held it and begged for it to stop, he surveyed the mess around him. He really did not want Kate to see this.</p><hr/><p>Kate awoke around six thirty am with a grogginess filling her head. She never was one for interrupted sleep – or late nights for that matter, something which she had struggled with when Josh was a baby, and she was PC. She sighed, pushing the thought to the back of her mind and pulled the quilt from her body, allowing the chill of the air to hit her body which helped her to wake up a little more. She wondered what the crashing had been last night and although she was sure it was not an intruder, she had an uncomfortable feeling about what she might find. She grabbed her glasses from the bedside table, not quite awake enough yet to think about contact lenses and stood up, grabbing her silk blue dressing gown from the hook on the door and headed through to the kitchen.</p><p>As Kate opened the door of the guest room, she immediately heard the quiet sounds of the radio and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She was relieved when she headed through to the kitchen and found Steve preparing himself some breakfast. He turned to look at her and smiled, pointing to the coffee on the counter before turning back to his breakfast. She was surprised to see him awake so early but was even more surprised to see him, already dressed in his signature waistcoat and tie.</p><p>“You’re up early today Steve.” She commented, almost suspiciously as she filled herself a mug of the coffee and then sat on the counter. He nodded, still not looking at her, focusing on the two croissants he was preparing.</p><p>“Yup,” he replied, turning to place the two plates on the table, “I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get up.” He stated. Kate looked shocked as he placed the plates down, seeing his bandaged finger and various small cuts on his fingers. He realised that she had noticed, and he quickly thought of an excuse before she could quiz him. “Smashed a glass.” He stated as he sat at the table. Kate nodded, accepting his reasoning for her early morning wakeup call though his tired eyes did not deceive her. She resisted questioning him once more and changed the subject, talking about the case they were working on whilst they ate breakfast.</p><hr/><p>A short while later, after breakfast, Kate headed for a shower and Steve headed to the balcony of his flat, almost limping in pain, with another cup of coffee and sat on the small decking chair to light up for the first time that day. The bright morning sunrise did his pounding headache no favours and he could barely keep his eyes open for the burning glare of the sun. His pain relief was starting to wear off and as he assessed the city waking up, lights flicking on and engines starting up, he wondered how he would get through the day. He looked down at his phone as he did, hovering over the name of his doctor’s surgery, momentarily considering that they would help. He quickly dismissed the thought though, knowing only too well that it wouldn’t look good and as a serving Police Officer, he couldn’t risk tainting his medical record. The pain in his back was agonising though and he knew that as the day wore on, it would only intensify without pain relief. He couldn’t ignore the rush of anxiety it gave him as he scrambled in his mind trying to see a way out from his pain. He chose to light up once more, hoping another cigarette would help to clear his mind and find a way to mask his pain.</p><p> </p><p>Kate put the finishing touches to her makeup for the day and turned off the music from her phone which she listened to whilst she got ready. She flicked on her black coat and quickly assessed herself in the mirror, sharply adjusting her police badge before zipping her coat up and heading out of the room. She had expected to see Steve sat on the balcony, but the door was open, and he was nowhere to be seen. She closed the door as she shouted out for him, expecting him to appear perhaps from the bathroom or the kitchen. She opened the kitchen door to check for him, noting only their used dishes and one extra glass which they had not used that morning. She knew it hadn’t been there the night before when she had cleared up and she also knew that they had both had coffee that morning. She decided to think nothing more and removed the used plates from the countertop, discarding the crumbs when she noticed the smashed brown glass in the grey pedestal bin. The detective in her could not leave any stone unturned and she abandoned the plates on the counter, then she picked up some of the glass, reading the label of the bottle.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Mr Steven Arnott</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Take one tablet every 4-6 hours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Take exactly as directed by your Doctor. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you suspect you have taken too much, seek medical advice <strong>immediately.</strong></em>
</p><p>She sighed, wondering why Steve might have lied about it. She guessed perhaps he had been ashamed, but she examine further, grabbing another part of the smashed glass with a part of the label attached. She gasped when she read the date of the prescription – only two weeks previously – she was no mathematician, but she could tell that there should be some pills left. She hastily discarded the glass back into the bin and shouted out for Steve once more.</p><p>“Steve? Steve!” She shouted as she rushed into the living room. She checked the main bathroom, knocking ferociously on the door, fearing the worst when there was no reply. She slowly pushed the door open, peering around the side, seeing nothing. The last place she checked was his room, knocking whilst opening the door without delay. She raised both her hands to her head and let out a big gasp, realising he was not there either. She finally turned to the door where a key stand stood, the only keys still hanging were the keys to her service vehicle and a spare key Steve had given to her. She swore loudly, grabbing her keys and she rushed out the door, hastily locking the door before crashing quickly down the two flights of stairs. She exited the building hurtling off to her car, calling his number through her car as she rushed to the AC-12 offices. She dialled and dialled again and each time she was met with no reply. The third time she called, the phone had been switched off. The last call she made, she had tried to put off, but she could put it off any longer – she called Hastings and desperately explained the situation, struggling to tell Hastings a coherent story.</p><hr/><p>When she arrived at AC-12, Kate abandoned her car on the street, running into the building and hurtling into the lift. The minutes in the lift felt like hours and when the doors opened, she tapped her way into the offices and powered through the office, past the astonished PCs and into Hastings office.</p><p>“Sir,” she gasped in a panicked tone as she rubbed her brow. He stood immediately as she entered.</p><p>“Kate, any news?” He asked, and she shook her head, and suddenly she found herself spilling all her worries, finally revealing to Hastings’ how Steve’s recent behaviour had worried her. She told Hastings of Steve’s constant and increasing smoking, his distance, his new and permanently timid behaviour and finally his attempts to hide his pain. He nodded and thought for a second as he took in the information that Kate had told him. In an ordinary job, Hastings wouldn’t have to worry about this, but Steve was a Police Officer and any concerns with his conduct had to be taken into account. “Okay, Kate,” He said, finally breaking his silence, “we’ll give him a few hours. If he doesn’t show, then we’ll worry, alright?” Kate nodded, although panicked she was aware that she had to distance herself and she rested on the hope that she was overreacting.</p><p>"I should have known Sir. I should have seen the signs..." She cried, unable to keep hope at the forefront of her mind. Hope didn’t set her mind at rest at all and her head darted between thoughts, trying hard not to imagine where he may be, what he may be doing and if indeed he was even still alive…</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Lets Be Sinners to Be Safe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Where has Steve gone? </p><p>-</p><p>Please let me know what you think! I love your theories as to where things are going! :)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kate had arrived to Hastings’s office just before 8am. Granted, she had been early for their 9am start but she just knew something was off with Steve. She hadn’t been sat in the office long but as the other officers and detectives began to arrive for work and as the clock drew closer to nine, she began to feel nervous. Hastings had sat in silence, leaving only once to make them both a coffee but Kate had paced the room, her feet itching whenever she sat down. Each and every time she tried to think of a positive, innocent explanation for Steve’s early disappearance, she couldn’t stop herself thinking several more negative ones. She couldn’t get comfortable sitting, the absence of one of her closest friends troubling her into pacing back and forth over and over.</p><p>“Sir, I can’t just sit here!” She finally caved as the clock struck nine, refusing to sit waiting any longer. Hastings shook his head, trying to explain to her that this could all be innocent – Steve could just be late for work, but Kate just refused to accept it, the worry for her friend taking over. She was embarrassed when she let a tear escape – she wasn’t happy to let her feelings show – but Steve was her partner, her best friend and like a brother to her, she didn’t want to just sit there when he could be anywhere. When he could be dead.</p><p>“Look, Kate.” Hastings started, looking at her with a sympathetic look, a look which told her he understood. “I know you and Steve are good friends, but he will come in good time. I’m sure.” He gulped as he lied to his junior colleague – he was not sure at all.</p><hr/><p>Steve had driven to the other side of town alone that morning, not long after Kate had gone for a shower. The drive, although a short one, had been a chore, his exhaustion coupled with his hazy mind and pulsating headache. By now, his pain had returned with a vengeance, his back throbbing over and over every minute without fail. His heart seemed to pound alongside the pain and for a moment he had felt convinced that his heart might come out of his chest. He was very warm, beads of sweat encompassing the palms of his hands and sliding down his brow. Steve would do anything to make his pain stop. <em>Anything.</em></p><p>He looked up to the building he had parked next to and then looked back to his phone. He restarted the device and he quickly bypassed the myriad of missed calls, hovering over his Doctor’s surgery number and even the number of Occupational Health. He thought, for a moment, that he should admit how terribly he was suffering, how much he was struggling and how much he wanted everything to stop <em>feeling.</em> He looked again to the building and decided to close away his phone. He so desperately wanted to be helped but his job was the only thing keeping him going – he couldn’t bear to have it taken from him. The so-called “balaclava man” had taken so much from Steve – his mobility, his promotion, Sam, his dignity, his self-respect and now his integrity. He didn’t want to let them take the one good thing he still held onto – if he wasn’t a police officer, he was nothing.</p><p>In that moment, Steve made a choice. He knew, deep down under the rubble of his life, the rubble of his worries, he knew that the choice he was making was that of a coward. He knew it was wrong but admitting that he was a pathetic, vulnerable, damaged man? Well he believed that would hurt far more. Steve brushed his hands through his hair, trying to make himself look more presentable, less zombie and more human. Eventually he braced himself and opened the door of his car. The chill in the air hit him immediately and sent a shiver down his aching spine. He closed his eyes as he turned his legs round giving his body a moment to adjust to the pain when his feet touched the tarmac below. He knew that the pain would not relent, no matter how long he sat on side of the driver’s seat and so he forced himself up, scrunching his face as the pain took over his entire being. Once he was steadily on his feet, he finally allowed himself to open his eyes and he looked around, desperately hoping there were no pitying eyes. He hated the pitying just as much, if not more than the injuries themselves. After taking a second to compose himself, Steve took a long inhale before commencing the short walk to the building opposite, trying to restrict the small limp he developed each time his back was <em>this </em>sore. He went into the building and exited a few moments later, heading back to his car.</p><hr/><p>Hastings had managed to contain Kate in his office for a little while longer but as time went on, he faced more and more attempts from her to leave, to try to find Steve herself. He knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do, he knew that if Steve turned out to be missing there were protocols, not to mention a misper squad but as time went on, his personal feelings for his colleague began to cloud his professional judgment.</p><p>“Sir,” Kate restarted, more sternly this time in a strong voice. She was not going to back down this time. Her own panic was now too much, and she was sure it’d only be quelled by finding Steve safe and well. She looked at him, making direct eye contact with Hastings who did not reply. His simple nod was enough and with that, Kate rose from her seat, muttering a thanks and grabbed the handle of the door. The adrenalin kicked in and whilst her breathing became laboured the idea that she was at least trying to help gave her some kind of relief. She could see the constables in the office staring at her, unsure of what to say as she darted from Hastings’ office. They were all rooted to their seats, perhaps with shock. All except Tatleen who, without saying anything, grabbed her coat and dragged it on, following Kate towards the exit.</p><p>“DI Fleming!” Tatleen shouted to Kate who turned to see PC Sohota following on. They shared a knowing nod and Kate stopped to catch her breath but to also type out a message on her phone to Tatleen. <strong><em>Steve missing </em></strong>was all that it read. Tatleen struggled to contain her shock but nodded in understanding, saying nothing and prepared to follow Kate who had removed her badge and tapped on the reader, opening the gate. They scurried to the lift, Kate deciding it was probably safer to take the lift given her panic. Tatleen stood behind her, awaiting further instructions. Kate’s worries turned to fury as the lift stalled, seemingly taking ages. She jabbed the button over and over, muttering to herself in anger. In a fit of anxious rage, she turned away from the doors of the lift, deciding to let out a loud noise of frustration, rather than showing how worried she really felt. Finally, after what had felt like an eternity, she heard the bleep on the lift and the doors sliding open. She did not turn, she instead found herself a little lost in her worried thoughts before being brought back to reality by Tatleen frantically tapping her side.</p><p>“Ma’am…Ma’am… <strong><em>It’s DS Arnott.”</em></strong></p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. One, Twenty One Guns</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Soooo! I am so sorry for the delay in this chapter – I have been so super duper busy with coursework and work work and I've just been knackered. Can't wait till xmas is over in retail :D! Anyways, I hope you enjoy finding out what Steve's been up to and I am eager to hear what you think is next to come for Steve and Kate. Thank you for all the hits, Kudos and Comments. Keep the comments and theories on Twitter coming!!</p><p> </p><p>Twitter – @howveryarnott</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kate felt herself stuck to the spot for what felt like minutes but couldn’t have been more than a second before she turned and in that moment, she was overcome with emotions. Her muscles loosened as the pent-up tension that she had been holding in faded away. But, as she looked at the man, merely a few feet away from her, standing next to another AC-12 officer in the lift, her worries, her fears, her stress all morphed into a relieved anger. Other than a small plastic bag in his hand, he looked as he had that morning – tired and worn out with deep grey circles living below his eyes and fingers still strapped together, still dressed in his grey suit with its matching grey waistcoat.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake Steve! Where have you been?” her tone was kind and yet riddled with anger and panic and she couldn’t keep her language professional. He looked at her perplexed, trying to understanding the source of her worry. He scrunched his brow and frowned at her, his face feigning ignorance but the guilt in the pit of his stomach could not be ignored. She let out a deep, angry sigh and threw her hands into the air before raising them to her head. “You’re unbelievable!” She exhaled and shook her head, before heading towards the gate to let herself back in. Just before she tapped her card, she turned to look at him again. “Meeting Room. Five minutes.”</p>
<hr/><p>Steve walked out the lift feeling almost as flustered as he had that morning – as he felt every morning – and straightened his tie again before following a very quiet Tatleen into the office who had shot him an almost patronising yet kind and caring smile. He forced himself to return her smile, knowing she meant well and for some reason that he couldn’t really explain, in this moment, he couldn’t bring himself to ignore her or to shoot her a look of disgust. He shook himself from his thoughts and headed to the quiet staff kitchen first, ignoring the stares as he walked past. As soon as he got to the kitchen, he grabbed a glass, and pressed it against the water dispenser with a clammy and quivering hand, retrieving a package from his small plastic bag once he set the glass down. He opened the small white box and slid out the rectangle blister pack. He had never felt such a relief as when the lady in the small pharmacy on the other side of town had sold him some over the counter opiate painkillers with very few questions. Deep down he knew that it didn’t really matter what she said – he was desperate – he’d stop at nothing to quash his pain. He pushed another two from the packet, having had two on the way to work but he was still in excruciating pain. The pills from the GP were much stronger, but these pills, while they weren’t as strong, they ensured his façade still remained strong, even if he did have to take a double dose.</p><p>After swallowing the pills, he discarded the rest of the water down the sink and placed his glass into the sink, bringing his hands to the edge of the sink, propping himself up. He sighed, feeling an overwhelming shame encompassing his being and yet it was contradicted by a glorifying release of his mental pain, and a slight dulling of the pulsating physical pain in his back. He felt disgusted at himself. He felt dirty, ashamed, guilty and <em>satisfied</em>. And in that moment, Steve did not regret a thing. He let go of the sink, bringing his hands to his back, daring to place a hand on his back now his pain was at least dulled again. The relief was nowhere near as intense – not as euphoric. Even now, he still felt as if there were tiny knives repeatedly stabbing his spine and his lower back but before it’d had felt as if he was being repeatedly butchered by a machete over and over and over, every time he moved, every time he breathed, <em>every time he thought. </em>In comparison, this <em>was</em> a relief.</p>
<hr/><p>Steve headed to the meeting room straight away, opting not to head towards his desk. He had expected to only see Kate there – he imagined she’d probably give he a rollocking for being late and some expected berating for not telling her where he was going. So, when he saw Hastings through the glass window of the room, he was a little shocked to say the least. With one hand he gave a light knock to the beige door and with the other he pushed the door open, addressing his two superiors before entering the room. There was a frosty tension in the room as he closed the door and his nervousness intensified as Hastings instructed him to remain standing. Though he was nervous, he felt calmer, he felt far more normal than he had when he’d met Kate at the lift.</p><p>“Steve, son,’ Hastings began, his tone harsh and yet it was juxtaposed with a caring, fatherly kindness. ”Where have you been?” Steve let out a mutter, attempting to reason for his tardiness without raising suspicion. He was desperate to keep his pain under wraps, he didn’t want anyone – not Hastings, not Kate and certainly not Occupational Health – poking around too much. He had far too much to lose and, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure how much he could keep at bay. Kate, who hadn’t said much, still reeling from her anxious anger, gestured to the small plastic bag Steve was carrying in his hand. It was clear, exactly where the bag was from, the label of the pharmacy cladded across the bag. Her anger softened somewhat as she considered what might be in the bag.</p><p>“What’s in the bag Steve?” She asked and as she did, Steve felt the familiar nervousness spike somewhat and the craving for a cigarette hit him instantly and ferociously and it accompanied a warm sweatiness, his hands clamming up once more. For a few seconds, he considered everything that he could say, all the scenarios that he would turn up to a pharmacy, as soon as it opened, and what could be so important he would risk being late for work. In the end, he took lesson from his work and realised that a partial truth would be easier to deceive two seasoned detectives with than an out and out lie.</p><p>“It’s just a repeat prescription.” He said as he opened the bag and stretched his arm out, showing them the rectangular box. He could see that Kate wasn’t convinced and in a desperate attempt to conceal his behaviour, he reminded Kate of the smashed bottle, gesturing to his bandaged hand which seemed to at least somewhat placate his superiors. He allowed himself to relax somewhat before Hastings began to speak again.</p><p>“That’s all very well son, but you know the policies on lateness.” Hastings said, taking some notes on the paper in front of him. His expression softened and he smiled at Steve and finally extended his hand towards the seat, allowing Steve to sit down who let out a sigh of relief as he did. “Look, Steve son, I don’t want to see this happening again. If you’d been any later son we were going to send out resources, you know how vulnerable we are as a unit.” Steve nodded and muttered an apology. He felt adequately reprimanded and as he insisted once more that it wouldn’t happen again, he thought that would be it.</p><p>“Right. Is that it?” He asked, looking toward Hastings who shook his head.</p><p>“I’m afraid not son.” Hastings said turning to Kate. “Kate, could you pass me the file?” He asked and Kate passed him a navy folder – Steve’s personnel file. He opened the folder and Steve could see a paper copy of his Police Record and immediately he did was filled with dread and a drowsy nervousness. Hastings retrieved the desired sheet and cleared his throat before he began to read to Steve. “Detective Sergeant Steven Arnott, I’m afraid that I have to make you aware, following consultation with the Chief Firearms Commander, I will be revoking your Firearms Permit indefinitely under Section 30A(2) of the 1968 Firearms Act. This will be commencing immediately and will be subject to review following a medical assessment by the Occupational Health team.”</p><p>Steve scrunched his face in horror. He didn’t really know what to say and for a few seconds he was just empty but soon his passion kicked in and his anger came to the forefront of his mind. He scoffed and let out a small cocky and yet nervous laugh, his gaze darting between the two senior officers sat across from him.</p><p>“Sir, with all due respect, can I ask why?” Steve asked, an angry smile dawning his shocked face. Kate remained silent, and by all accounts Steve thought she looked a little shifty.</p><p>“As I’m sure you’re aware Steve, I am unable to discuss with you the entire nature of the complaint before your assessment, but I can let you know that I’ve been approached by a member of AC-12 staff who has serious concerns regarding your fitness to carry a firearm. This officer was particularly concerned for your personal safety whilst carrying a firearm.” Hastings looked away from Steve, he himself feeling an awkwardness at having to deal with such a situation. Steve shook his head and rose from the seat, pushing it back angrily and almost too harshly, the chair almost toppling over from Steve's rare strength.</p><p>“And we all know who’s report that was.” Steve said, shaking his head once more before gesturing to the door, eager for Hastings’ approval to leave. Hastings nodded, he himself desperate for a break and he watched as Steve charged from the office. If only he had realised that his reaction really wasn’t helping his cause.</p><p>For Steve, he didn’t care how he reacted because it felt like every single thing in his life was crumbling and was becoming unfixable – he really was beginning to feel hopeless and worthless. He walked angrily through the office, not as hastily as he would like but as hastily as he could and on his way to the gate, he shot a disgusted look to a concerned looking Tatleen who had shot him another of her patronising smiles. He shook his head and tapped his card on the pad, charging through the doors and heading down the stairs, ignoring the niggling pain still lingering in his back as he descended down to the ground floor for the sweet euphoric relief of a Marlboro Gold.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Little Lion Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>In this chapter, we finally see Kate step back from Steve's troubles and back into her own. What's Kate hiding? Why is she really stepping down as DI?</p><p>As always, please let me know what you think by way of comments, kudos or by tweeting me @howveryarnott. All comments and theories are much appreciated,</p><p>Thank you again for your patience waiting for this chapter. I hope it has been worth it?!</p>
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    <p>It had been a quiet day at the AC-12 office that afternoon and everyone was glad – not least Steve. Though he had his key suspects, he really wasn’t sure who had reported him. Deep down he knew he should be grateful – he couldn’t be sure what he would do on one of the really tough days – and in some ways, he did feel a relief but mostly he felt vulnerable. It felt as if his personal life had been laid bare for everyone to see and he just couldn’t bear to alter how people saw him. He quite liked being seen as strong and confident, always knowing what to say and yet deep down he was worried, scared and in pain. In fact, knowing that his colleagues had at the very least, an idea that he was struggling in any way made him bubble with anger and he knew he needed to find out exactly who it was. He had surmised that it must be either Kate or Tatleen – nobody else knew him well enough to notice him struggling and that was just as he liked it. Of course it could have been Hastings but he just didn’t buy it – Hastings had looked as crushed as he had himself.</p><hr/><p>Kate chose to leave the office early to get her head together after what was possibly the hardest day of her senior role. She looked at Steve as a brother and she knew he was hurting and on top of her own worries, it was a heavy weight on her shoulders, not less because she was at a loss for how she could help him. She didn’t even know exactly what was wrong but she knew she felt fiercely protective towards him. They had always been close but during his injury rehabilitation she had really stepped up to aid his recovery and she saw him at his very lowest ebb. She knew how he was when he was vulnerable and frankly, she was glad she could keep an eye on him at work as well as at home. She also quite liked the idea of living with a friend. Anything to take her mind off her own troubles. She invested herself in Steve’s troubles so deeply she <em>almost</em> forgot that she was hurting too. That evening though, it was time for Kate to face her demons. She quickly sent a text to Steve, letting him know she would be late back but she didn’t say too much. He had his own troubles.</p><hr/><p>Tonight, Kate had managed to convince her soon-to-be ex-husband Mark to let her see her young son Josh once more before they moved away. Sure, they were only moving to Birmingham but since splitting with Mark, he barely allowed her contact at all and she was sure he’d limit her contact even less with the excuse of distance. Kate understood that deep down, Mark’s intentions for her son were genuine and meant to shield her son from hurt. She saw herself how her job had come in the way of her being a mother; she wasn’t stupid. Goodness, sometimes even she had questioned if she was a terrible mother or if she should ever have been allowed to become one in the first place. She loved her son but she was terrified to hurt him too. If she was honest with herself, it broke her heart to think of her son living so close and yet so far from her but on the surface she thought perhaps the best thing for Josh was for her to let him go. She knew that while Mark didn’t love her in the way he had, he loved their son and he would take good care of Josh with the help of his family living in Birmingham. All sensible and rational thought aside, the thought of her ten-year-old son moving away shattered her heart more and more each and every time she dared to think about it.</p><p>After Kate had left the office, knowing Steve would still be the, she popped back to his flat to change from her working clothes. She didn’t want seeing Josh to be about anything other than spending time with her beautiful boy. She placed her police lanyard and badge down on her bedside cabinet in the guest room and, dressed in some casual clothes, she grabbed the small gift she had for her son and headed to her car towards the house she had lived in with her husband and son. It was the first house she and Mark had ever bought and this was the last time she’d ever see it or her family. She drove the short distance and as she parked up outside the house, a few doors down, she took a second to take in the Victorian town house she had spent so many happy years in. Although it felt as if a period of her life was washing away, she had spent many difficult days – even months – in that house, not least after Josh’s birth. If she was honest, she was glad to see the back of the house and a good amount of its memories. When she finally mustered the courage to turn off the engine of her car and grab her satchel to head to collect her son, she could feel her emotions battling in the very pit of her stomach. She was looking forward to spending some time with her son. They were going to go for a pizza and go to the cinema and of course, she couldn’t wait. But she also wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready to let her beautiful boy go.</p><hr/><p>Though she still had her own key, she couldn’t bring herself to barge into the house and so she rang the bell and waited patiently for an answer. As she waited, she took in the exterior of the house which had its curtains removed and displayed the inside where the pictures and homely features she and Mark had installed had gone. Her home was gone and her heart ached. Before she could get emotional, she was awoken from her thoughts by her ex-husband who muttered what she assumed must have been a forced greeting, swiftly followed by her boisterous son who pedalled towards her and instantly wrapped his arms around her with a tight grip, almost as if he knew that it could be some time before they saw each other again. Her heart fluttered as he bent down and hugged him back equally as tightly as he had hugged her and settled her head on his small head of loose brown curls, taking in his sweet, candy like smell as she did so, savouring the moment. She did not know when she would see her precious son again. Before she could stop herself, she felt a small tear escape from her left eye and as she felt the tears begin to build up, her young son pulled away and looked into her eyes, concerned.</p><p>“Mummy?” He asked his voice full of concern but also tarnished with a childlike fear. Josh was afraid, sometimes, of what his mum might say. She’d let him down and she broke his heart so many times that he’d learned to expect that of his mother. Not that it hurt any less. He adored his mother like any child did. “Mummy, why are you crying?” he stammered, averting his gaze to the ground, a nervousness filling his mind. Kate let out a reassuring sniffle and raised his head gently, forcing him to make eye contact with her. She smiled at him softly, trying to set his mind to rest and though her heart was in smithereens, it was her job to keep his intact.</p><p>“I’m fine Josh!” She nodded and hugged him once more, possibly even tighter than the first hug. “I just love you so, so much that sometimes it hurts and makes me cry.” As she pulled away from her son she placed a loving hand on his soft, warm cheek and softly swiped her thumb across it. Her efforts seemed to work in placating her son and so she took one last encapsulating look at her son before standing to follow Josh and Mark into the empty house. She exchanged some awkward small talk with Mark on the way inside and they finally settled in what had been the kitchen.</p><hr/><p>“Right!” She sighed, breaking from the awkward conversation with Mark to look down at Josh. “Right Joshy, where’s your backpack?” She looked around the room, looking for his Scooby Doo purple backpack that he took almost everywhere he went. She was certain that he wouldn’t come to see a movie without it and so when she scanned the room and didn’t see it, she felt uneasy. She looked back to Josh who was looking at his feet. Her son’s body language filled her with a mixture of emotions but dread stood at the forefront of her mind. She felt the tears brimming in her eyes as the realisation set in that the plans had changed.</p><p>Kate let out a wee scoff in an attempt to stop herself crying in front of her son and looked up to Mark. She hoped that looking into his eyes that perhaps she was wrong and that she was just overthinking the situation. She hoped he would reassure her – maybe Josh didn’t like Scooby Doo anymore? Or maybe he had lost the bag? Or packed it? But as she looked to Mark and he shook his head, she felt as if he had ripped her shattered heart from her chest over and over again. She felt a lone angry tear slide down her face as almost as quickly as it fell, she swiped her arm up in an attempt to conceal her hurt from not only her son but also her husband who held all the cards.</p><p>“Mark,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear but as loud as she could without fully erupting. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you let me take my son out?” In that moment, as she finally allowed herself to see that Mark wasn’t going to allow her to take Josh out, she couldn’t stop her tears anymore and they raced down her cheeks in waves, her mascara sliding down leaving wavy stains on her face. “You can’t keep me out of his life.” She could barely speak as the dam holding her pent up emotions erupted. Her young son had started to cry too and she felt powerless, helpless and guilty.</p><p>“Kate.” Mark’s voice was devoid of emotion as he attempted to bring her back to reality. “Josh and I need to go by six. There’s no time for you to take him out.” Mark’s explanation and matter-of-fact tone did nothing to stop Kate’s breaking heart – it in fact made her angrier as she saw the time – 5:45pm – on the oven display. It also didn’t calm her son who’s silent crying had turned into frustration and he ran towards his dad and began to hit him over and over again. Kate sniffled and went over to her son in an attempt to prise him away from his dad and into her arms.</p><p>“Joshy, come on my love.” She uttered, finally finding the strength to maintain a strong pretence for her son. When the young boy finally surrendered from hitting his dad, he fell the floor where Kate knelt and scooped him into her arms. His small body jerked with every sob he let out and he gasped for air as he did. She did all that she could to calm him – she held one hand on the nape of his neck and with the other she rubbed soothing circles on his back. As she held him and he held onto her with a terrified grasp, she looked up at her ex-husband who had sat down on the remaining chair in the kitchen. She shook her head at him and let out a disgusted sigh. “Look at him Mark. Look at our son. How can you do this to him? How can you rip him from his mother?”</p><p>Mark smirked at her in disbelief, “you did this to him Kate. You did this to us,’ and raised himself from the chair, collecting his car keys and coat from the kitchen counter. “Come on, Josh.” He announced, attempting to have his son follow on. Josh did not budge as his anxious breathing returned to normal, he grabbed onto his mother’s waist and shook his head, refusing to let go or to go with his dad. Kate didn’t want to let Mark take her son; she didn’t want to let him go either but she knew, she had to let go. Taking in an unsteady breath, she knelt down to her son’s height again and swept away his angry tears from his face, unable to stop her own tears mirroring his.</p><p>“Look, darling. I know you’re feeling scared and confused and that you don’t want to go with Daddy but do you think Mummy would let you go with Daddy if I didn’t think you would have loads of fun?” She forced herself to smile to help settle her son but she was almost seething as she tried to encourage her son to leave – exactly the thing breaking her own heart. Josh thought about what she had said, the distraction stemming the flow of his tears. Eventually he shook his head but he didn’t say anything, he just looked towards his mother for her guidance. She smiled at his gesture and reached into her bag to pull a small gift for her son. “Have a look what’s inside.” He reached out and read the tag aloud from his mother:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Joshy,<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is for when you’re sad or scared and mummy isn’t there.<br/></em>
  <em>Love you lots like jelly tots,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mum Xx</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“What is it mummy?” He asked as he ripped open the packaging to reveal a DVD and a picture of the two of them taped to the front. They were both smiling in the picture which was from Kate’s last birthday. She was embracing him the picture and he was hugging her back, not a care in the world. <em>For when you wish Mummy could give you a hug</em>. He looked at the film and saw it was a Scooby Doo film and his bloodshot eyes lit up as he grinned and looked at her. “Thank you Mummy! I love it.” He hugged her again and Kate held him close. The impatience on Mark’s face told her that he and Josh were leaving and it was happening now. She looked back to Mark and shot him a disgusted glare before pulling away from her son. She put him at arm’s length from her and scanned him up and down, taking a photo in her mind of every part of his appearance. She grabbed his winter coat from where it was resting just behind them and she was glad that he didn’t protest that he was too old as she pulled the coat onto him. She couldn’t keep her tears at bay and before she could conceal that they’d restarted, Josh noticed and immediately he mirrored her actions from before and raised his small hand to his mum’s cheek and wiped away her tears. “Mummy why are you crying?”. As Kate felt Mark’s frustrated stares, she stood from where she was kneeling and stepped towards the door to make her way out.</p><p>“Remember Joshy, Mummy’s crying because she loves you so, so very much.” She smiled at him and as she turned away from her son with her heart in pieces,  she heard his small voice reply back to her and it gave her a very small peace.</p><p>“I love you too Mummy.”</p><p>And with that, Kate left the house as quick as she could, clambering to her car where the unlocked the car and collapsed into the driver’s seat where she stopped holding in her emotions any longer and finally, loud, harsh sobs filled her car as she realised that she had in fact, let her son go.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Desire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So I have to say i have had the most fun writing this particular chapter. It's a bit longer than usual but I got carried away writing it and I hope you guys love it as much as I enjoyed making it.</p><p>The question is, what is Kate hiding? And for Steve, how is he really coping with the revocation of his firearms licence?</p><p>PS. I don't know if you've noticed but the chapters are all names after songs from after C1. I guess the songs are sort of related to the chapter? I guess I just like them, too. This one is:</p><p>Desire – Years &amp; Years.</p><p> </p><p>As always, kudos, comment what you think/ tweet me @howveryarnott :) X</p>
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    <p>When Kate finally arrived back to Steve’s flat at around 7:30pm, she was shocked that he was not yet home from the office and, if she was honest she was a little concerned but she didn’t have any energy left to try to find out where he was. She hoped he was okay but she’d been up since 6:30am and had left the house in an anxious rush an hour later and it’d be a long and emotional day already. She loved Steve like a brother but she didn’t have the fight left for his battles today as well as her own. She felt drained as she settled down on the sofa having changed into comfier clothes. She had bought herself dinner on the way home, knowing she should eat but she couldn’t bring herself to muster any of the food. Instead, she pulled a small polaroid from her bag, taken the same day after the one she had given to Josh. It was of her and Josh at her birthday meal. They were at a pizza restaurant, his choice, and both of them were eating their pizzas without a care in the world. They looked so very happy and so oblivious to their separation. She smiled softly as she looked at the photo and pulled it towards her chest and started to cry again. She curled herself around the photo, hugging her knees tightly against her chest and she wept lightly as she settled down on the sofa, wondering when she might see her boy’s kind smile again. In that moment as she thought of her son, she regretted the days and months after his birth when her post-natal depression had halted her bond with her son. She regretted how she had pushed him away as a baby. She regretted throwing herself into her work to mask her pain. She hated herself for throwing away her family for some quick solace with Akers. She hated herself for only now, putting Josh first.</p>
<hr/><p>After work, having seen Kate’s text, Steve had decided to go to the pub closest to the AC-12 office. It had been a long, arduous day and he was tired, but he also wanted some time to blow off steam on his own. He pulled his Police badge from his neck as he left the AC-12 building and sighed as he headed the short distance to the city centre pub. He pulled his tie loosely from his neck and undid his top button before reaching into his pocket for a soothing cigarette. He felt a relief as he always did as he took a drag of the cigarette but also because he finally had the chance to be alone. The chilly winter breeze in the air made his hairs stand on end and he wished he’d taken a jacket that morning in his haste to leave his flat though the heat from his cigarette did provide him some warmth. The cold air did nothing to help his back though and the short walk from the office to the pub took him probably twice as long as it would anyone else, the pain pulsating in his back with every step, not, for once second, allow him to forget his injuries. As he neared the door of the pub, he was more than happy to come to the end of his cigarette before heading into the pub, if not to keep warm then to do something about the pain in his back.</p><p>When Steve got into the pub, he ordered a pint of lager and as he waited for his drink to be poured, he looked around the pub at the happy faces surrounding him. Sure, he could see one or two people, mostly men, drowning their sorrows but most people were laughing, some were even surrounding the darts boards and snooker tables. He could see one lady who he was sure was already drunk, despite it being only just teatime. He guessed by looking at her that she was probably an alcoholic. He pitied her when she  stood and staggered towards the bar to request to order another. He thought how futile her attempts were and he hoped for a second that the barman wouldn’t serve her – not only because it was illegal but also because she was clearly troubled. He forced himself to turn away. He told himself that didn’t want to have to intervene if the barman did serve the lady. The man serving him handed over his lager and he headed over to a quiet booth. He grimaced as he slowly lowered himself down onto the cushioned seat and he wished, as he often did, that this wasn’t his life. His injury had taken so much from him. He knew this report from a colleague at AC-12 could take his job. It filled him with anger at the thought of even considering the identity of the person who had reported him. He felt a surge of pain as he deliberated between the two women. He grabbed the table in front of him and his teeth clenched together as the pain filled his being. This was a particularly harsh pain, much like the pain he’d felt this morning and it made him feel helpless. As the pain softened somewhat, he reached into his suit pocket and though he felt guilty, he pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and pushed out the remaining two pills in the small packet.</p>
<hr/><p>A few hours passed had though Steve had intended to have only one, maybe two drinks, it wasn’t long before two turned into three and three turned into more than he could remember. His lager had changed to Scotch Whisky – it was much quicker to drink – and with every sip he took of the orange liquid, he felt himself forget a little bit more of his painful existence. Leaving his jacket on the booth to save his seat, he swiped his drink from his chair and half staggered, half limped outside of the pub and immediately he set his whisky down on a table outside to spark up a cigarette. He was standing just in his shirt and loosened tie and although the air had cooled even more since he first came to the pub, the alcohol had warmed him. He felt numb, his physical pain was masked by the drugs, at least in that moment, and his mental pain was clouded by the alcohol and he only wished he’d tried this combination before. He knew deep down that this was really a terrible idea, not only did he have work in the morning but the pills also said not to mix with alcohol, but it made him forget, at least in that moment, everything that he was feeling. He bent down to pick up his drink and the sound of a woman calling his name, startled him a little, causing him to jump. Despite how intoxicated he was, he knew that he’d suffer for that in the morning.</p><p>“Steve?” Steve raised his gaze from the Whisky glass he’d just picked up to look at the figure who’d called him. He recognised the sweet sound of the woman’s voice but he couldn’t place in his mind who it was until he laid eyes on her. His eyes were hazy and it took a second for his eyes to focus on his junior colleague standing across from him. He raised his cigarette to his mouth, taking a sharp drag as he realised who was stood across from him. He smiled at her and watched as she waved off the two girls she had been walking with. He settled against the brickwork of the pub and gazed at the young woman taking in her appearance. She was dressed in black Chelsea boots which had a small heel, paired with skintight black jeans, a black blouse, a black leather jacket and her brown locks were loosely curled. As she turned, he looked into her eyes and shot her a cheeky grin. She walked towards him and instinctively he flicked open his cigarette box, offered her one to which she politely refused. “Steve, are you alright?” The woman stepped closer to him and looked into his clouded eyes, realising how many he had already had to drink. She wasn’t entirely sober either but she could see that the older man had been there for some time.</p><p>“Tatleen!” He laughed and placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to quash her concerns but she gently pushed his hand away. She scanned him like he had her. It was three or so hours after they’d finished work for the day and he was still dressed exactly as he had been that morning. His shirt was still immaculately tucked into his trousers and yet the tie pulled from his neck and his unsteadiness, coupled with his forward behaviour told her that he was definitely very, very drunk.</p><p>“Steve. Maybe I should get you home?” She asked as he finished the last of his whisky. He giggled as she suggested he had already had one too many. He placed his two hands on her shoulders this time in an effort to convince her he didn’t need to go home. She tried to remain stern but his stare caught her off guard and she felt herself faltering. “S-Steve… I… I think you should go home. We have work tomorrow.” He looked at her for a second in dismay and he was so shocked, he released his hands from her shoulders and stepped back from her.</p><p>“I’m finished, Tat.” He huffed and reached into his pocket for another cigarette. “The bastard that reported me. They’ve finished what Lakewell started.” He groaned and fiddled aimlessly with his lighter, trying to light his cigarette. She shook her head and though she did not approve, she helped him to light it.</p><p>“Steve…”</p><p>He looked at her again, confused this time as to why her voice had shifted to a nervous tone. He studied her face for any signs as he took another drag of his cigarette. It was then that it dawned on him. He took a deep breath in and shot her an angry glare.</p><p>“You have <em>got</em> to be joking!” He yelled and threw his head back in anger before pacing forward slightly, moving away from the wall.</p><p>“S-Steve… You have to understand,” she stammered, turning to follow him as he paced the beer garden behind her in anger. “I was worried about you. You haven’t been exactly yourself…” She almost whispered, in a desperate attempt to avoid confrontation but, it was too late. He scoffed and turned to face her, andm in a flash of anger, he cast his cigarette to the ground. He let out an almost manic laugh, much like he had in the office earlier than day and walked closer to her. She wasn’t afraid of him, not at all, after all, she was a Police Officer, she could stand up for herself, but Steve’s sudden bout of anger had her stumbling back and she found herself almost hitting the wall.</p><p>“I got pushed down the fucking stairs Tat!” he bellowed and placed his hands on her shoulders again, pushing her into the brickwork of the pub, his loud voice alerting two men passing by. “So excuse me if I haven’t been ‘exactly myself’!” She was barely able to react to his outburst, partly because she was shocked but also because Steve was taken from his outburst by the two men who’d stopped outside the beer garden.</p><p>“You alright, love? Is he bothering you?” one of the men questioned. In shock, she glanced at Steve who had stepped back slightly. The anger on his face was gone and it was replaced by shock but also with all the emotions she’d become used to seeing from him of late: disgust, guilt, shame and self-hatred. She looked back again at the men and smiled, giving them a small nod which was enough to see them off after some persuasion. He didn’t say anything as they walked off, instead he took a seat on a bench in the garden and stared down to his feet. She walked over towards him and nudged him softly, forcing him to move up on the bench so she could sit down next to him.</p><p>“Hey,” she spoke softly, nudging him again, this time asking him to look at her. At first he looked the opposite way, too ashamed of himself to look at her but eventually, her persistence became almost annoying and he turned round, daring to look at her. “Look at me Steve. Am I hurt?” She questioned and gave him a reassuring and kind smile. He shook his head and pulled his hand through his hair though he was taken by surprise when Tatleen hooked her arm round his shoulders and pulled him closer to her daring to set her head on his shoulder, to which he did not refuse. Though he was shocked, he was more than okay with it. “Maybe we should get a coffee?” He turned to look at her, bemused at her suggestion, moments after he had been so aggressive.</p><p>“That would be nice…”</p><p>“Come on then!” she chirped enthusiastically and stood from the bench, placing her hand down in front of his face in an attempt to get him on his feet. He was taken aback but this time he laughed slightly and smiled at the younger woman.</p><p>“Now?” She nodded at his question and he smiled and shook his head at her before placing his clamy hand in her soft open hand and followed her back into the pub.</p>
<hr/><p>Steve felt a flutter of something positive for the first time in a very long time as he was dragged back into the pub by his bubbly friend. She pulled him to the bar and instantly grabbed the menu.</p><p>“Well, <em>sir</em>, what’ll it be?” She smirked and opened the menu to the coffee list. He shot a cheeky smile back to her and softly pushed her hand away, changing the page of the menu to the wine list. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his credit card, setting it down in front of her, sliding it under her hand</p><p>“Whatever you want. It’s on me.” he smiled and stood from the bar, pointing to the booth which miraculously was still occupied by only his suit jacket. “Mine’s a large single malt.” She looked at him disapprovingly, his unsteadiness surely meant he wasn’t fit for another but he won her over with his cheeky smile and she turned her gaze back to the bar to order their drinks.</p><p>It wasn’t long before she appeared back at the table with Steve’s Whisky and bottle of wine for herself. She shrugged her shoulders coyly as she showed him the bottle. He laughed and shook his head at her as she placed the two drinks on the table.</p><p>“What?” she laughed, “I got two glasses!” she said and raised them to show him before nudging him over so she could sit down next to him, opting to sit there rather than at the other side on her own. “So…” she simpered, looking more than pleased with herself as she placed her right arm around his neck again much like she had outside. “Tell me about yourself, <em>DS Arnott.</em>”</p><p>Steve sniggered at her use of his official title. He’d never had anyone call him it in such a flirtatious manner and he had to admit, he rather liked it.</p>
<hr/><p>It wasn’t long before they’d finished the entire bottle of wine and were more than merry, giggling and laughing as they left the pub, hand in hand. When they finally got outside the door and into the beer garden with Steve in front, he turned to look at her, getting lost momentarily in her hazelnut eyes. She took him from his daze when she released his hand and placed her hands around the nape of his neck and pulled him towards her. He smiled and slowly guided her to the wall, much softer than he had earlier that evening though he was careful not to ruin the moment.</p><p>“Is this okay?” he muttered, looking into her eyes for approval. She let out an irritated scoff and nodded to him, pulling him in close.</p><p>“Just shut up.” she whispered and pulled him towards her, allowing him to push her against the wall and close her in. The warmth of his body radiated against hers as their lips clumsily met together and, it was in that moment, as Steve felt her soft velvet lips crash against his, he felt alive again. He felt like a man again for the first time since his accident. He savoured the moment, the feeling of her mouth against his set off fireworks in his soul. Her sweet scent floral scent filled his senses like freshly cut roses and blooming lilies and in that moment, he felt no pain, he had no worries, there was nothing else but her. He felt almost sad as she pulled away to rest her nose against his but her soft expression gave him flutters in his belly and he didn’t want to let her go.</p><p>“Come home with me,” he blurted out before he could even consider what he’d said. His shock at his own words reminded him that he was Tatleen’s superior and he faltered slightly, he considered if it was worth deciding if maybe he had crossed a line. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have sa-“ he was stopped by Tatleen who swayed a little as she pulled her finger towards his lips.</p><p>“For god’s sake Steve. Shut up and take me to yours.” She announced feistily and pulled him towards her again, dragging him back into another kiss. He was shocked at the confident behaviour from the girl who always appeared so timid, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he quite liked it. It wasn’t long before she was running down the road like a teenage girl, down to the taxi stand to wait for Steve.</p>
<hr/><p>“Thanks mate,” Steve handed the money to the driver and the taxi drove off, the two of them giggling like teenagers as they made their way into the block of flats and into the lift. Tatleen sniggered like a silly kid as she pressed all of the numbers in the lift. Steve watched her intently as he settled against the banister in the lift, smiling at her childishness, admiring her joy in the silliest things. When the lift finally stopped at his floor, having gone all the way to the top floor first, she impatiently grabbed his hand and they stumbled out of the lift towards his flat door. She stood against the door, distracting him as he fiddled with the keys, trying to get them into the lock but failing miserably a few times as she placed suggestive kisses against his neck. He tried to curb his giggles and motioned for her to shush as he finally got the door open. “Kate’s here!” he whispered, at least he thought he had but his whisper had been much louder than he intended. As Tatleen bundled herself into the flat, she began to prise off her shoes, her desires removing any sense of how loud she was being which was evidently clear as her boots clattered with the wooden floor. She looked at Steve, almost innocently and he stifled a giggle as she pushed him against the wall of the hallway. He gasped as she hit her lips against his and began to toy with the buttons on his shirt, pulling them out one by one. His shirt was almost entirely undone when a noise from Kate’s room startled Steve. He pulled himself back at little, his companion looking a little offended but still more than keen. He smiled at her softly and raised his hand above her head, pushing his bedroom door open a little, allowing her to slip inside. “I’ll be a minute,” he whispered and shut the door, turning to head to Kate’s room but instead he was startled by a half-asleep Kate standing in front of him. He raised his hand to his mouth awkwardly it was too late. He knew that Kate knew who was behind his door.</p><p>“I don’t have the energy Steve.” she sighed and shook her head at him, settling back on the sofa. He turned and looked to his closed door, almost deciding to leave Kate, but instead, he decided to quickly check that she was okay. He headed to the sofa and looked down at his friend.</p><p>“Do you want to talk?” He slurred. She forced herself to smile at him, despite his drunkenness, she knew he just wanted to help her. She shook her head and stood from the sofa, laughing as he attempted to close the buttons on his shirt.</p><p>“Go on Steve. I know you want to.” She smirked at him as he blushed, his embarrassment helping to cheer her up somewhat. He nodded and headed back to his room but he was stopped just before he got there by Kate’s voice. “But Steve?’ He turned to look at her again.</p><p>“As long as I see you both bright and early tomorrow morning?”</p><p>“What?” he questioned, almost wondering if she was going to punish them for their “sleepover”. She smiled and shook her head.</p><p>“For work you idiot!” she laughed and shook her head. “Now if you wouldn’t mind could you keep the bloody noise down?”</p><p>With that, Kate disappeared into the kitchen and Steve smiled to himself before going into his bedroom and closing the door behind him.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. You Look Like Yourself but You're Somebody Else</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So, how are Steve and Tatleen feeling after their antics? </p><p> </p><p>As always, please do let me know what you think :) x</p><p> </p><p>Song:<br/>You're Somebody Else, Flora Cash</p>
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    <p>It had been almost two hours peaceful and uninterrupted slumber for Steve that evening with Tatleen’s sleeping form rested against his bare chest. He almost thought that he might get his first full night’s sleep since the accident but when he woke at 3:30am he realised again that luck was not on his side. He was brought to consciousness by the familiar stabbing pain at the bottom of his spine but it was far worse than it had been for a long time and recently, it had been really bad. The felt tears prickle in the corner of his eyes as he turned his head to his alarm clock to check the time. He desperately tried to halt the tears threatening to cascade down his face but he knew that his efforts were futile. He took in some slow, deep breaths in an desperate attempt to dull the pain. As he did, he glanced at the woman, peacefully asleep, her head rested on his bare chest and whilst he was sure her lying on him was probably intensifying his pain, he couldn’t bear to move her. She looked too content and not only that but her being there – it made him feel normal. He averted his gaze from her and looked to the roof of his room and finally he admitted defeat and allowed the tears to slide down his face where they slipped down his unruly stubble. He was frustrated. He desperately wanted to sleep, he was so tired, but his pulsating spine was accompanied by a crippling headache, probably caused by tiredness, maybe a hangover, and the pain in his abdomen confirmed that maybe had in fact, had too much to drink. </p><p>It was almost four in the morning when Steve decided he couldn’t bear the pain any longer. He hated himself for crying like a baby and he didn’t want Tatleen to see him. He was so ashamed of himself. He just wished he could be normal, have evenings like he had that night more often, but without the help of half a bottle of single malt and a full strip of strong painkillers. He let out a relieved sigh when Tatleen turned to face the other way, her head rest instead on his arm which was strewn across the bed. He took her moving as his chance to move and attempted to push himself up from the mattress with his remaining free hand. He yelped in pain as he did so, unable to keep the noise in, and slipped back down onto the bed. The tears hurtled down his face furiously as the pain rippled through his body. In that moment, he hoped that Tatleen would have slept through the commotion but as he felt movement in the bed next to him, his hope turned to humiliation.</p><p>Tatleen forced her eyes open at the sudden gasp from the man beside her. She pushed herself and sat up in the bed, turning to the man beside her. </p><p>“Steve?” she whispered in a kind and caring voice. He turned his head to make eye contact with her and it was then she saw his hopeless expression. She could tell he felt ashamed and her heart ached for the man beside her who had seemed perfectly fine only two hours ago. He really had seemed fine – she would never have slept with him; she’d never have taken advantage of him if she had realised things were this bad. He didn’t reply to her, instead he looked away from her, still too ashamed to ask for help. “What can I do?” she asked, choosing not to pity him. She could tell that really wasn’t what he wanted. </p><p>“I can’t get up.” He admitted, allowing his tears to fall freely now that he had already been humiliated. “I can’t get up!” he repeated, a little more scared this time. This was the worst he could ever remember his pain being. His breathing became faster and shallower and as he began to panic, Tatleen felt way out of her depth but she knew that she had to stay calm. The man in front of her was already freaking out. She had to be strong. </p><p>“You’re okay.” She reassured him as she stood from the bed. She grabbed some of his pyjamas that they’d thrown from the edge of his bed in the heat of the moment earlier that night and dragged them on. She turned to the man, still deep in the throes of panic and he seemed almost desperate for her not to leave his side. “I’ll be two minutes.” She smiled kindly to him though her heart was racing inside her chest. When she opened the door, she was a little shocked to see Kate sitting on the sofa and It was awkward as the two women made eye contact with each other. </p><p>“I heard commotion… but I didn’t want to…you know,” Kate gestured pointing to Steve’s door. Tatleen nodded in understanding.  “Is he alright?”</p><p>“Honestly, no. I think he’s having a panic attack.” She shared. “Do you have a flannel?” Kate nodded and stood from the sofa, grabbing a freshly washed flannel which she dampened with warm water and passed to the younger woman.</p><p>“I’m just here if you need me,” Kate whispered to a clearly nervous Tatleen who nodded and headed back through to Steve. Kate felt a little helpless though she was glad that Steve had a nice woman by his side for once. Even if she should really disapprove.</p><p>Things really hadn’t improved when Tatleen came back into the room and clambered to sit next to Steve. His breathing was still irregular and he had sweat beads sliding down his forehead, merging with the tears sliding from his eyes. She hadn’t been gone long, no longer than a minute, but she had naïvely hoped that he would have calmed down. </p><p>“You’re alright Steve,” she said and with one hand she raised the warm flannel to his head, wiping the sweat from his forehead and with the other she softly grabbed his hand. “Breathe with me Steve, nice and slow.” She soothed and slowed her own breathing. His tense hand wrapped tightly around hers and his eyes met with hers, desperation displayed itself all over his face. “In and out.” She repeated, her own racing heart slowing as Steve’s breathing steadily slowed with hers. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” he quaked to her as his breathing slowed. She shushed him and smiled at him again. He was so ashamed to be in such a state in front of her but he also felt a great relief that she had been there to help. He felt so much calmer and safer with someone there. Sometimes he felt the panic attacks were worse than the physical pain, they took such a toll. </p><p>“Do you want to see if you can get up now Steve?” Tatleen suggested to him. He swallowed nervously and nodded to her. He placed his hands by the side of his body and attempted to push himself up, but he felt another wave of pain take over as he pushed and instinctively he rested back on the bed. She sighed and took his hand again, “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” She could tell he felt ashamed to be so vulnerable. She didn’t want to make It any worse for him. “Do you have painkillers?”</p><p>“In my blazer, left pocket.”</p><p>She stood again from the bed and rummaged around in the pile of their entangled clothes on the ground, finally settling on his jacket. She looked in the pocket in the jacket, pulling out the two blister packs from his pocket. She was relieved to see that only one was empty. </p><p>“How many?” She asked innocently. Steve knew that the original recommended dose to take two of these over-the-counter pills wouldn’t be enough. They were nowhere near as strong as his prescription pills. He knew that it was wrong to take advantage of her and for once he even felt bad, but his pain was excruciating. He had to make it stop and he would do anything.</p><p>“Four,” he lied. He could tell she was unsure and he was almost disappointed that she didn’t question him butt instead she popped out the pills and cupped them into her hand. She gave the pills to him and then gave him the glass of water he’d set aside for her earlier that night, before returning to the bed next to him.  She took his hand as she pulled the duvet over the two of them and watched him carefully as the painkillers began to take effect. As his pain eased and the painkillers kicked in, he turned his head towards Tatleen.</p><p>“I don’t mind if you want to go,” he sighed, letting the shame take over. She turned her body to face him and shook her head at him softly.</p><p>“Why would I want to do that?” She queried, bemused at his suggestion. She shook her head and briefly allowed their lips to touch in an attempt to placate the older man somewhat. “Try to get some sleep, Steve.”</p><p>She watched as he finally succumbed to exhaustion and it was only then that she felt herself sigh in relief. She questioned if she was doing the right thing – should she really be getting involved with Steve? She knew that so many things about it were wrong. It didn’t seem as though Kate had a problem with them seeing each other though she wondered if Kate would have felt the same, as her superior, if Steve was in a better place. She knew for a fact that Hastings would see things very differently. Despite all of the risks, she wanted to take them. She really liked Steve and besides, he needed someone. She was more than willing to be by his side.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Doesn't mean my heart's not skipping when you look at me like that</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So I just can't get enough of writing this this week!! I do hope you enjoy this lesser action packed episode. I'm building up to something, I promise.</p><p> </p><p>Song:</p><p>Please Don't Say You Love Me – Gabrielle Aplin</p>
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    <p>Kate had gone to bed after she was satisfied with the silence from Steve’s room. She worried about him a lot and she supposed some of the protectiveness she felt towards Steve was part of her yearning for her son. She had barely slept thinking about her own worries and of course she didn’t feel as if Steve was a burden, she just wasn’t always sure that she had enough room to help. It was because of this that she was okay with Tatleen getting close to Steve. She resented her in some ways, not sure she was ready to share her friend. In other ways though, even knowing that she should disapprove given the conflict of interest it would inevitably cause at work, particularly with Steve’s current state, she knew that he needed someone and she wasn’t sure that it could always be her. She wanted to help him but with everything going on with her and Mark, she supposed Steve’s problems could be too much for her this time.</p><p>It wasn’t long after she’d gone back to sleep that she was awoken by her alarm. She groaned at the familiar sound which she tried to turn off as quickly as possible to avoid waking, at the very least, Steve, if not the two of them. Kate sat on the bed for a few minutes and considered the events of the previous day. When Hastings had told her a few days ago that he’d reached the decision with the SFC to revoke Steve’s firearms licence, she had been quite shocked. She had noticed small changed in Steve’s behaviour and she guessed that he was struggling a little with his mental health but she had thought he was struggling more with his physical pain and perhaps a dent in his pride. She had argued with Hastings at the time on Steve’s behalf, insistent that Steve was in a suitable frame of mind to bear a firearm but after the commotion of the night before, she thought that perhaps Hastings was right to take Tatleen’s concerns on board. She hadn’t realised his mental health had taken such a knock. She didn’t dare allow herself to think of what might happen if he was bearing a firearm in the wrong situation… She shook herself from her thoughts and decided to send a text along to Tatleen. It took her a few rewrites to decide what to put. She liked Tatleen and appreciated that Steve had someone else in his life to talk to, but she still felt a protective guilt. She wanted to be the one to help him.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Morning. How are things? K.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Much quieter this morning. Steve still asleep! </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Thank goodness. Hadn’t realised things were so bad? </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I just had a feeling?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kate supposed Tatleen had done the right thing in bringing her concerns to Hastings.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You did the right thing.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tatleen sighed in the next room when she read Kate’s text. In some ways, at the time, she hadn’t felt that she had done the right thing and she especially didn’t when she realised that Hastings had informed Steve. She remembered the look on his face as he had walked through the office, like a sad puppy and she had realised just then how much his job meant to him. She had felt even more guilty in the beer garden the previous night, finding Steve looking so deflated and even more so when she saw how much the decision had hit Steve. But in the early hours of that morning, when she saw him in the grips of his physical and mental pain, she felt glad that she had followed her gut.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I mean, I didn’t think things were anywhere near as bad as they are. I think he needs help.</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>I’ll be living here</em> Kate replied, without considering how it sounded. She didn’t want to push Tatleen away from Steve. She knew that despite her personal feelings, he needed support. She couldn’t guard him all the time. <em>I won’t step in between you both. </em>She typed out, hoping that Tatleen would understand what she meant. There was no reply to her text and so she decided to add another.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He needs more than just me. I know that he likes you. He’s letting you in far more than me.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>And it was true, and Kate knew it. She had missed so many signs of Steve’s downward spiral and she knew it. Sure, she had clocked his smoking and perhaps his ongoing pain but she hadn’t noticed his mental pain.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I’m here as much as he wants me to be. You’re not on your own, Kate. X</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Kate appreciated the reply from Tatleen. Kate and Steve’s close relationship was no secret and she was glad that Tatleen respected that. There was one person however, that Kate knew wouldn’t understand Tatleen and Steve.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I think we should keep you and Steve between the three of us. Don’t think Hastings will approve.</em>
</p><hr/><p>Steve woke from his turbulent slumber around half an hour later with the sun streaming in a gap in his curtains. The light was blinding and felt as if it could burn through his painful eyes. He groaned and rolled onto his other side and momentarily he allowed himself to forget the pain from only a few hours ago. The pills had masked it somewhat and for that he was grateful. He felt a mixture of emotions as he set eyes on the woman who was wide awake, scrolling on her phone. He felt a warmth in his heart, a reassurance that after everything that had happened to him, he hadn’t been totally emasculated. But when he thought about his baggage, he felt more of a nuisance. He didn’t feel worthy of someone else’s attention. He felt like a burden and he really didn’t like that. He admired her though, particularly seeing her dressed in his Star Wars pyjamas that his mum had sent him the previous Christmas. He thought back to their evening and it calmed him slightly, thinking of the laughs they had in the pub that night. He was brought from his thoughts as she looked away from her phone and smiled down at him.</p><p>“Morning,” she smiled down at him softly. “How are you?” He looked away from her slightly, feeling a pang of shame wash over him. “It’s no problem, Steve.” She insisted softly, referring to the night before. He thought it was sweet but he wasn’t sure if he believed her. He turned back to look at her and her kind, caring smile and he thought for a second that maybe she was genuine. He sighed and pushed himself to a seated position which he was sure more than answered her question.</p><p>“I’m okay,” he replied honestly, bring a hand up to rub his tired eyes, “what time is it?”</p><p>“Eight thirty,” she replied. She saw the panic in his eyes as he contemplated being late for the second time that week. She shook her head and softly grabbed his arm, bringing him back down to earth. “Perks of living with the boss. We don’t have to go into till later. Kate’s cleared it.”  He sighed in relief and nodded to her, allowing himself to smile at her.</p><p>“My back’s still sore,” he stated, looking at her which caused her to falter slightly, “shame really,” he chirped, winking at her, reassuring her that, at least for now, normal service had resumed.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Lets Get Down to Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay I'm declaring it – I'm on fire with updates this week :D </p><p>Anyway – It's time AC-12 got down to some business, don't you think? But how will Steve and Tatleen's new found romance impact on their work? And how is Kate coping being away from her son?</p><p>Hope you're enjoying? Not sure when the next one'll be after this as I am back for the semester. Will try my best tho!</p><p>Let me know what you think :) X</p><p>Song:<br/>The Business – Tiësto</p>
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    <p>A month had passed since the last time Kate had last seen her son. She’d been due to step down from her post as Detective Inspector but a lack of applications saw her offering to stay on as acting DI whilst her replacement was sought. She was grateful in some ways as it took her mind off her son somewhat but he was always in her mind. She kept the polaroid with her at all times, it serving as a bittersweet reminder of her son. Despite throwing herself into to work, it became harder and harder every day to accept not seeing Josh. She had tried to arrange a video call between the two of them but no matter when she tried to organise it, Mark would not comply. Eventually, as the strain became too much, she had told Steve everything. Since spending more time with Tatleen, Steve seemed to be coping much better. Kate was grateful to have a fraction of her closest friend back. She was grateful she was able to confide in him.</p><hr/><p>“Right Fellas. This is our newest case. We’re going to be investigating suspected corruption in the Birmingham City Drug Squad. There is a suspicion that there are police officers in the local are who are working in collusion with an OCG.”</p><p>Hastings stood next to the projector screen as the AC-12 staff sat, surrounding the screen listening intently with Kate controlling it. After Hastings finished his introduction, he looked to her to continue.</p><p>“This man in the picture here is DI Arthur Hart, and we suspect he, or someone in his squad, DB9, are working with, or are aware of other police officers engaging in illegal activity with the OCG.” She reported before moving onto the next slide.</p><p>“DB9 have been working alongside the UK Border Force and Merseyside Police’s Drug Squad to try to eliminate drugs entering the country via Liverpool,” Hastings said and pointed to Liverpool on the map, drawing a line between Liverpool and Birmingham. “It is suspected that officers in DB9 are willingly allowing large quantities of drugs to enter into the hands of the OCG where these drugs are inevitably ending up on the streets a mere hour away from here.”</p><p>“The Border Force and Merseyside Police have contacted us to discover if our own officers are assisting in the trafficking and or sale of Class A drugs.” Kate announced, finally ending the slides. It wasn’t long before the group dispersed and Steve, Kate and Tatleen remained in the room at Hastings’ request. Steve looked to the two women a little uncomfortably as Hastings turned his back to gather some papers, finally settling his gaze on Kate. He raised both his hands just above his waist in a questioning nature, hoping to gain some answers from her, receiving only a confused shrug. The three of them had managed to keep Steve and Tatleen’s relationship from Hastings so far but this time, Steve had a strange feeling they were to be found out. He glanced to Tatleen quickly, both of them sharing a quick and uncomfortable glance before the boss turned back to face them.</p><p>“Right you three,” he began, sifting through the folders in hand. Steve felt himself shifting uncomfortably, fearful, almost, of what Hastings may say next. It did not go unnoticed. “What’s the matter with ye son? Do you need the bloody toilet?” Steve immediately stop pacing, a red hue filling his cheeks.</p><p>“Sorry sir.” Hastings shook his head and looked down to the folders, handing one to all three of them. “Right, I want my best team on this one, folks. Are we up to the job?”</p><p>“Three of us sir?” Kate questioned, looking between her two bemused colleagues and then back to Hastings who shook his head. Steve looked equally as confused, expecting that Kate would be up to speed with the finer details.</p><p>“No. I feel we need to imbed an undercover officer in the DB9 squad to gain the full picture.” Kate nodded in understanding though she was a little confused as to why he hadn’t discussed it with her fist. “I want you two on the case.” He said and pointed to the two women who both shared a confused look. Steve took a second to process the information, assuming that Kate would be the undercover officer as she usually was. He bobbed his head up when he finally realised what Hastings was suggesting and looked at his superior with a furrowed brow.</p><p>“Me?” He questioned, pointing to his own chest, the shock evident in his face. Hastings nodded towards Steve who still looked rather confused. “Sir, I have to ask, why me? Surely Kate is the better option? She has more experience,”</p><p>“Yes, thank you Steve. I am a seasoned commanding officer.”</p><p>“I’m not doing it, Sir,” Steve stated, much to the shock of the two woman and Hastings.</p><p>“And why is that son?” Hastings replied through gritted teeth, the anger bubbling on the surface of his voice. He didn’t like to be questioned.</p><p>“It’s not safe.” He stated, looking away as he addressed the elephant in the room. “Without a firearms permit how can my safety be assured sir?”</p><p>Hastings nodded and raised his hand to his mouth, gesturing for the two women to leave the room. He waited until they did before he addressed Steve.</p><p>“Son, you’re more than capable of this. With or without the permit!” Hastings insisted though Steve still looked unsure. “Look son, man to man, I know you’ve not had the greatest of times recently. This is your chance to prove yourself.”</p><p>Steve considered, for a moment, if this really was right for him. Sure, since he’d been living with Kate and seeing Tatleen, things had improved but he still faced pain in his back every day, he still felt a disgust every time he saw himself in the mirror or every time he searched out a new pharmacy to bridge the gaps between his prescriptions. If he were to be honest with Hastings, he’d tell him that he wasn’t sure about anything of this. He’d say that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to spend all of that time alone with only his own thoughts for company.</p><p>“Sir.”</p><p>But he didn’t. He didn’t share his fears. He saw the opportunity to fix his fractured relationship with his job and he grabbed it with a desperate and unsteady grip. Hiding from the truth was beginning to become all too regular for Steve.</p><hr/><p>“So, Birmingham, eh?” Kate inquired whilst standing over the hob in their kitchen that evening. Steve was sat at the small kitchen table, his shirt untucked and his tie pulled from his neck.</p><p>“Yeah…”</p><p>Kate turned from the bubbling pan for a second to look at Steve who looked lost in his own thoughts. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he responded as he looked up from his daydream and towards his friend. “How are things with Mark?” He asked, changing the subject. She shook her head, turning back to the pan. She wasn’t sure she had it in her to talk about Mark or Josh that evening. “Kate?”</p><p>“I- I don’t want to talk about it Steve,” she retorted sharply.</p><p>“Okay.” He replied, deciding she’d speak about it when she was ready. A silence filled the air between them as Kate put the finishing touches to their meal and Steve sat scrolling on his phone. Kate sighed to herself as she took some plates from the cupboard, ready to set on the table, a guilt setting in for how she had spoken to Steve.</p><p>“I shouldn’t have snapped,” she admitted, turning off the ring on the hob as she did before turning to look at Steve. He flashed her a sympathetic and understading smile. He opened his mouth, about to reply when he heard the flat’s buzzer ring. Instinctively, Kate placed the wooden spoon she had been holding down, preparing to head to the door which had Steve scrambling to his feet.</p><p>“I’ll get it!” He cheered and headed to the door out of her sight. She shook her head at him, laughing softly at his petulant desire to answer the door, and decided to set the table, not hearing much more than him telling the person, who she assumed must be Tatleen, to come up to the flat. “Kate!” He yelled from the door, “come here a sec!” <br/><br/>Kate was a little taken aback at Steve’s request but she placed the plates on the table and lightly wiped the cooking dust from her clothes. She headed from the kitchen and turned left from the door to see Steve, holding the door open with a grin on his face. She was a bit confused and tilted her head to the side. Steve had the door open but there was nobody there. She opened her mouth to question him but he raised his hand, silencing her.</p><p>“Someone is here to see you.” Steve grinned as the small boy turned round the corner and smiled from ear to ear at his mother. Steve extended a fist to the little boy who happily bumped his small fist against Steve’s. Kate, still in shock looked at her son, intently as he interacted with Steve making sure that it was really him before the glanced at Steve, aghast but thankful. Steve looked at the boy, nodding his head, telling him that he didn’t have to play anymore – he could go and see his mother.</p><p>“Mummy!” The boy screeched and run up to his mother, instantly lacing his small arms tightly around his mother who hugged him close as if her life depended on it. She felt a soft laugh leave her lips as her emotions overcame her, letting her tears slip freely down her cheeks. Steve smiled, watching his friend interact with her son who she’d missed desperately. She lifted her head from her son’s momentarily to send Steve an appreciative smile, mouthing a thank you to him as he turned to shut the door.</p><p>“Right, I’ll leave you two to it then shall I?” He said, walking over to his abandoned coat on the sofa as Kate and Josh moved apart.</p><p>“Aw no!” Josh groaned, looking rather disappointed, eliciting a laugh from Kate. “Please stay Uncle Steve! Pleaaaase!” Josh begged, displaying his best puppy dog eyes to Steve before turning to his mum. “Can he mum? Please!”</p><p>Kate looked down at her son and smiled at his request. “Of course he can,” she replied, looking to Steve, “only if he wants to that is!”</p><p>“Fine!” Steve joked, feigning anger which amused the excitable young boy.</p><p>“I’ve missed you,” Kate said, looking at the boy, ruffling his hair lovingly as she did. The young boy smiled at her, grinning his teeth at her. “So. What do you want to do then?”</p><p>“Twister!” He screeched, suggesting his favourite game to his mum. Kate glanced at Steve who shook his head in response to her implicit question – whether or not he’d be able to do that.</p><p>“Hmm… I don’t think Uncle Steve has that game anymore,” she replied, telling a little white lie to change the subject. The boy little out a small sigh before bouncing himself down on the sofa, looking a little deflated. Steve thought for a moment, about the things that Josh had enjoyed when he’d been to Steve’s flat before. He headed over and searched under his TV for a second before retrieving the box he wanted.</p><p>“How about Mario Kart?” He suggested and walked to the boy, showing him the box, causing him to nod excitedly. “Boys against girls?” He suggested, smirking at Kate as he did so.</p><p>“Yeah!” Josh smiled and triumphantly bumped his fist against Steve’s again. Kate smiled and sat down next to her son and Steve, the food in the kitchen long forgotten as they set up their game.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Tell Me How I'm Supposed to Breathe with No Air?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Steve has moved to Birmingham to begin his undercover. What could possibly go wrong?</p><p>As always theories welcome. X</p><p>Song:</p><p>No Air – Chris Brown &amp; Jordin Sparks</p>
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    <p>Steve looked around the flat he’d been given for his undercover operation. It had been bustling with various people throughout the day from Tatleen helping him to move his things to AC-12 staff taking him through the safety features of the flat like emergency exit routes and the last of details of the case he’d be working on. His goodbyes had been emotional. Having lived with Kate for nearly two months now, he’d become used to having a friend there at all times but also a counsellor, his own personal chef and someone there to help him in daily life. He was a little terrified to live without her support. As for Tatleen, she had been his rock and the thought of not seeing her for an indefinite amount of time was something he hadn’t really considered until he was sat, alone, an hour away from home, about to begin the most complex undercover he’d ever undertaken. He hadn’t thought that he’d be able to let anyone else in after Sam but he and Tatleen clicked and the time he had spent with her had been the first time he had felt truly alive since his assault. As he sat alone for the first time in weeks, he felt familiar feelings creep up on him. Everything he considered led him back, all the roads, led back to his assault.</p><p>His greatest worry was his own safety. It terrified to consider how vulnerable he would be without a firearm if his cover was blown. He did try to take some solace from the fact he had the trust of the gaffer but it did little to quash his anxiety. It was something he hoped he’d have under control by the morning for his first shift as a UCO otherwise he was sure it’d be written all over his face. The housework was another concern for him and although it was a silly one, he’d come to rely on Kate’s so heavily that he’d forgotten how much he’d struggled before she came along. He could barely microwave himself a ready meal these days, never mind cook like Kate. But the fears for his safety, he knew, deep down they weren’t wholly surrounding his firearms permit. He had one particular problem that he knew was already out of control. He’d managed to live, in the company of a Detective Inspector and keep it under wraps. He’d managed to have a fellow officer as a girlfriend and keep it under wraps. Goodness, he’d even worked in a department full of the force’s best detectives and keep it under wraps. But in a drug squad? He wasn’t so sure.</p><hr/><p>“Mr Steven Arnott?” Shouted the lady at the counter. Steve stood from the plastic chair and headed to the desk, keen to keep his identity under wraps, especially on his first day. The lady glanced at him quickly before she pulled her glasses down onto the bridge of her nose to read the address on the packaging. “Address?”</p><p>He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and stepped closer to the lady, lowering the volume of his voice, “34D Montgomery Road, CT15 8FT.” The woman raised her eyes to finally look at him. He supposed from the look on her face that he must look like some kind of alien there from outer space not from just one hour down the road.</p><p>“Far from home are you then love?” She asked in her strong Birmingham accent. He wasn’t sure whether she was genuinely interested or just incredibly nosey but he was nervous for his first day and his back was incredibly sore. He didn’t have time for her nonsense.</p><p>“Something like that,” he nodded and extended his arm to grab the bag containing his prescription. She pulled the bag back, much to his shock causing him to sigh and shake his head at the her. His palms were sweaty with a mixture of nerves for his first day, the resurrection of his anxieties and if he was honest, he felt a craving for something, anything to dull the pain in his back. “Sorry but is there something wrong? I really don’t have time for this.” He grunted, looking at his watch anxiously. The woman smirked at him and he thought she looked almost happy to have inflicted her misery onto someone else.</p><p>“Mr Arnott, I’m afraid you require a review with the pharmacist.” He sighed shoving his hands into his pockets in annoyance. He felt a rage burn inside him as he saw the woman’s delight with herself but he knew, he had to keep his anger in. If not to avoid blowing his cover then to make sure he was given his prescription. She ushered him over to a small booth where she took great pleasure in telling him to wait for the pharmacist. He waited for what felt like hours but could only have been a few minutes until he heard the pharmacist coming towards him. He was so annoyed at having to wait that he found himself aimlessly scrolling on his phone, his shattered nerves telling him it was the best thing to do. Eventually he heard the pharmacist clear his throat.</p><p>“Ah. Right, Mr Steven Arn-“</p><p>It was then, in that moment that Steve looked up to the man who stood across the desk from him. He couldn’t believe his eyes and he was sure that if he hadn’t felt nervous before then, he certainly did now.</p><p>“Steve?” the man asked awkwardly. Steve shoved his hands in his pocket and darted his eyes awkwardly at first. Eventually though, he had to grit his teeth and look at the man. He needed these pills.</p><p>“Mark,” he replied, raising his hand to scratch the back of his head. Mark cleared his throat again – he too was desperate to move on from the awkwardness.</p><p>“Right. Steve we’re going to have to have a talk about reducing these pills.” It was in that exact moment that Steve felt a tightening in his chest and the blood drain from his cheeks. He felt desperately warm and uncomfortable about the idea of surviving his crippling pain without the pills. He tried so desperately to act calm but he suddenly felt powerless.</p><p>“Uhh… why?” He quizzed, feigning naïvety which he was sure Mark could see straight through. This was of course his full-time job.</p><p>“Steve, as I’m sure you are aware these are highly addictive opiate painkillers. We need to make sure you are taking as little as possible for as short a time as possible.” Steve forced himself to nod, unable to say anything. His head was spinning and his back ached desperately. He just wanted to get his pills and go. Mark looked at him almost sympathetically and lowered his voice. “Do you need help Steve?”</p><p>Steve scoffed and instinctively covered his aghast mouth with his hand. “What do you think I am, Mark? Some kind of junkie?!”</p><p>As soon as the heated words left his mouth, he instantly regretted raising his voice. He decided not to try to salvage the moment, fearing he’d already dug himself a deep enough hole. He shifted his eyes down to the ground momentarily before returning his eyes to Mark. Steve wasn’t sure why but Mark handed him the bag without any further questions and wished him goodbye. He was shocked but relieved as he headed out of the pharmacy door. He walked down the road a little before stopping a short distance away from the pharmacy before pulling the contents of the bag out. He looked at the familiar box of pills and an instant wave of relief took over his body. Regardless, he decided to read the note that had alerted the lady that he needed a review and in the moment that he did, all of his relief washed away and it was he immediately felt his chest tightening as the dread took over his being</p><p><em><strong>Patient</strong>: Mr Steven Arnott<br/></em> <em><strong>Pharmacist Review Required</strong><br/></em> <em><strong>Outcome of Review:</strong> Refusal of Future Requests<br/></em> <em><strong>Pharmacist:</strong> Mark Fleming </em> </p><p>He took in short and sharp gasps of air as he ripped the label from the front of the package, in a desperate attempt to remove the evidence, immediately taking two pills from the box. He couldn’t bear to go to a shop to get a drink and swallowed the pills dry, desperate to rid himself of his anxieties. His breathing calmed somewhat in the knowledge that he had taken his pills, at least for then.. He shoved the box back in the small bag and noticed as he did that there was something else inside. On pulling it out, he found a leaflet which made his blood boil.</p><p>
  <strong> <em> <span class="u">Midlands Substance Abuse</span> </em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <em>Struggling with Drug Abuse?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A Guide to Help in Your Local Area</em>
</p><p>He couldn’t bear to read anymore and violently forced the leaflet in the bag. He didn’t need help. Not today. Not ever. He didn’t have a problem. Definitely not.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hiya folks!</p><p>Last chapter for a while. Please let me know what you think, where you think it's going etc. </p><p>Much love folks X</p><p>@howveryarnott – twitter</p>
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    <p>Kate awoke at the crack of dawn that morning, the chilly December air taking her from her unusually peaceful sleep. She shivered as she reached across to the bedside table to retrieve her phone, squinting when its bright light illuminated the room. Her morning routine began, as it did every day, by checking her phone to see if Mark had replied to her messages about their son. It wasn’t very often that she would see a reply. She so desperately wanted to see Josh at least before Christmas but that day, like almost every day, there was no reply. She tried not to dwell on it too much. She was already lonely with Steve away. She couldn’t afford to break down, with nobody there to scoop her back up. Not that she supposed Steve would offer much comfort but he was a good friend, his heart was in the right place. It was his head she couldn’t be sure of. Lifting herself from her thoughts, she groaned and forced herself from the warmth of the bed. She was checking in with Steve and his undercover that morning. It was best to check in in the morning, that way they had as little chance to be found out as possible. It was tougher though because it was simply too risky for her to travel to Birmingham. Their only option was a very early phone call. Though it had to be done, she could think of better things to do at 6am on a Friday morning. Calling Steve certainly wasn’t one of them. All she could think of, when she pushed her bedroom door open and dragged herself to the kitchen, was that hopefully, an early morning would mean an early night. Though she daren’t be too hopeful. She was so used to working with Steve that she had forgotten how much work he really did. Working with Tatleen didn’t flow as well. She simply didn’t have Steve’s experience. Or his brass neck.</p><hr/><p>Steve’s alarm needn’t have gone off that morning. The pain in his back served as a good enough alarm clock. He was almost finished his last prescription. He’d finished the first box of pills early but he’d managed to convince the lady at the pharmacist that he’d misplaced the first box and so she’d reissued his prescription. With only dose pill left, the pain in his back wasn’t the only thing keeping him up at night.</p><p>Steve stood at the balcony of his fifth-floor apartment, observing the Birmingham skyline as he drank from his coffee and smoked his first calming cigarette of the day. It was so early that it was still dark and so it almost felt calming to see the blackened buildings with the occasion lights and woosh of cars, it was nice to wonder how other people’s lives were going. It was cold though and no matter how satisfying the first morning cigarette was, it was simply too cold to pretend that standing outside, savouring his first puff of the day, would hide his anxieties for the days that lay ahead. He stubbed the cigarette out and discarded it before heading back into the warmth of his temporary home. The sound of the radio played in the background and yet no matter how much he tried to avoid thinking about it, there was only one thing on his mind that morning as he headed to the kitchen. He placed his mug down on the counter and headed to the small breakfast bar where the small blister pack lay. Holding the pack, he stared at the thin metal foil enclosing the pills and he instantly felt his palms were sweaty, he felt his chest become tight and his emotions in battle with themselves. On the one hand, he desperately wanted to soothe his aching back. However he disguised it, his back was still a long way from normal. He couldn’t deny though, the shame he felt in the very bottom of his soul and he could almost feel it eating away at his conscience every single day. He hated how desperately weak he had become and he knew it had intensified since he had been on his own more often. He shook his head from his thoughts and instead, he threw the pills down on the table and turned, walking away from the breakfast bar to wash his used coffee cup. He could feel his mind racing as he poured the hot water over the dirty cup. He could feel himself shifting his weight anxiously between his feet as he tried to scrub the cup clean. He was sweaty, warm, clammy.</p><p>He grunted in frustration as he finally forced the cleaned cup down on the drying rack. The noise was so loud he startled himself and he could feel a tightness building up in his chest. He steadied himself on the counter as his breathing took over. He couldn’t stop himself from letting the tears fall down his face as his heart began to race. He felt his face tingle as he desperately gasped for some oxygen. He could feel the sound of his unsteady heart thundering in his ears. Its boom was deafening. <em>Boom. Boom. Boom.</em> It felt as if the walls of the room were closing in on him as his heart stammered ferociously. <em>Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. </em> He felt in that moment as if his heart might finally stop, as if It may finally declare that enough was enough. In that second of sheer dread, as his entire body desperately gasped for air, he thought that, maybe he wished that his heart would give up. He clambered unsteadily  from the counter to the breakfast bar as the tears began to cloud his vision. He fumbled, finally grasping onto the breakfast bar and the glisten of the tin package in the centre of his blurry vision felt all too tempting. He resented that even the feel of the plastic in his clammy hands began to soothe his gasping lungs. He felt shame as his heart rate steadied, pushing the small pills from their casing. He felt dirty as he put the two pills into his dry mouth. He felt guilty, he felt ashamed and he felt dirty but as he felt the pills sliding down his oesophagus, he felt a relief wash over him. <em>For now</em> he thought.</p><p>He slid to the floor as his breathing steadied and he had sat there, listening to the sounds of the radio, wondering how he’d gotten this bad and hoping that maybe Kate would forget about their call. He knew that she’d instantly recognise that something was wrong. His fingers were still tingling and his palms were still clammy. He felt exhausted after only a few minutes of sheer panic. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his pain from his voice, not from Kate. After what had felt like only minutes, Steve pushed himself back to his feet, a dizziness washing over him as he stood. Although he still felt anxious, although his body felt weak and exhausted, he also felt numb. He grabbed his phone from the counter, hopeful that Kate would have forgotten their call. It was a little after six and he knew that she’d call soon. First though, he searched the name of the pharmacy that Mark was working in and its opening time. He was just clicking on the webpage when his phone began to ring. <em>Kate.</em> For a split second, he contemplated not answering. <em>Too weak even to ignore her.</em></p><p>“Hello?” He shook his head as his voice broke on the last syllable and instantly he knew she was suspicious.</p><p>“Steve. It’s Kate,” she replied. “What’s up? Everything okay?”</p><p>For a moment, he stayed silent, the anxiety taking over again for a split second. He raised a hand to his brow, wiping away the sweat and took in a deep breathe before replying.</p><p>“Fine Kate.”</p><p>He heard Kate clear her throat at that other end of the phone and he assumed that he hadn’t done enough to convince her.</p><p>“You would tell me if this was too much wouldn’t you, Steve?” She asked. Her tone was kind but it didn’t stop it frustrating him. “I can pull the undercover Steve…”</p><p>“No!” he stated angrily. “I get it. You’re in charge. You don’t have to keep reminding me”</p><p>“Steve, it isn’t like that…” She replied, a little shocked at his harsh tone. “I just want to make sure that you’re putting yourself first.”</p><p>He sighed, frustrated that he’d yet again let his emotions take over and it wasn’t long before that frustration turned to shame.</p><p>“It’s fine,” he insisted, too ashamed to apologise for his reaction.</p><p>“So. Any leads?”</p><p>“Actually, yes.” He said, grabbing his pocketbook and pulling it from his pocket. “I am convinced DI Hart is working with an individual to intercept large seizures of drugs.”</p><p>“Okay. Is it the OCG?”</p><p>Steve paced the room as he spoke to her. “I can’t be sure Kate. I haven’t seen any evidence that it is.” He could almost hear the cogs turning in her mind as she processed the information. His mind wondered as his anxieties took over again momentarily, reminding him that he had finished his pills.</p><p>“Um Kate…?”</p><p>“What is it Steve?”</p><p>“It’s not just illegal drugs. They’re allowing prescription drugs onto the black market.”</p><p>Steve wasn’t sure why he was telling her that. He wasn’t sure if he was telling her because it was his job, or if he was saying it out loud to confirm it to himself.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. The Truth is a Terrible Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>HELLO!</p><p>Firstly, I am so sorry for the delay. I've been busy (as usual, lol) but also i just couldn't get my thoughts onto virtual paper. I guess I had Writer's Block.</p><p>Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this? I wonder if you can answer the wee question i've left at the end ;).</p><p>As always, please let me know what you think! Theories, comments, kudos os tweets are always welcomed and appreciated :).</p><p>@howveryarnott</p><p>Song – The Truth is a Terrible Thing, You Me at Six </p><p>xx</p>
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    <p>It had been a few weeks since Kate and Steve had last spoken about his undercover operation. She’d been due to talk to him the previous week but when she had called, early in the morning, there had been no reply. It was the only day they’d risk assessed and the only approved day and time to call him and so she could try to contact him. Of course, after her last call with him, it worried her that he hadn’t answered her call and she wanted to go across to Birmingham to check up on him but she knew that she couldn’t. She couldn’t blow his cover and not to mention – she couldn’t bear to go to Birmingham. She couldn’t bear to be so close and yet so far from her boy. Especially so close to Christmas. Work had been busy though and it had been keeping her mind occupied. They were working flat out to understand how the police were helping to facilitate the drugs black market and if Kate was honest, she was finding the operation tough. It was a complex case and she was working with Tatleen who was barely a Detective Constable. Tatleen’s inexperience and naivety was hard and exhausting. Kate had many skills but patience was not one of them. Of course, she wanted to help Tatleen develop but it was a stressful case. With Steve gone, Kate didn’t need the extra pressure. Not to mention, Tatleen seemed to be absent more often than not these days. Kate was beginning to lose patience.</p><hr/><p>“Morning Sarge!”</p><p>Steve turned to see whose voice was calling his name and he saw a younger woman calling him from the other side of the DB9 office and heading to his desk. He’d been in early catching up with some work and so the other staff were just arriving. If he was honest, he was there, not only to catch up on work, but because he needed to keep his mind off the pain and his desperate urges to quash the pain. He tried to stop himself from thinking about the urges at every second but he found himself faltering as the young woman perched on the desk beside him.</p><p>“Morning,” she chippered again, a little louder this time in an attempt to make herself heard as she perched on the edge of his desk. Steve forced himself to smile but his heart felt heavy at the woman’s reaction. She shot him the pitying glance he’d become so used to and he could feel her studying his worn face. “You alright love?” she asked in her strong Brummy accent.</p><p>“Yeah, early morning, that’s all!” he replied and pulled his jacket on, gesturing his cigarette box to her. “Smoke?” he asked. She nodded and hopped down from the desk to head back to the door. He pushed himself from the chair, steadying himself with his clammy hands on the edge of his desk. He gritted his teeth together, desperate to quash the screams he was so desperate to let out. The nature of his undercover meant he had to keep his injury under wraps and he really didn’t want to draw attention to himself but today, he was extra sore. His back felt like it was being relentlessly whacked over and over. His hands were clammy and a tremble had unsteadied him; he couldn’t deny too the queasiness that’d stopped him keeping his breakfast down that morning too but most of all, he felt as he had for months. Anxious, alone and desperate. He just hoped he’d manage to keep it under wraps. From DB9 and AC-12.</p><hr/><p>Kate had made it in to work a little earlier that morning in an attempt to catch up on her ever increasing workload. Though she hadn’t heard from Steve, she’d done some of her own digging and she was trying to understand how between Merseyside and Birmingham, the police could lose the trail of much of the illegal drugs that were managing to make their way onto the streets of Birmingham. She knew they needed to find a lead soon – drug deaths in Birmingham were increasing at an alarming level. Plus, AC-12 needed a successful case. After Hastings’ narrow escape from “early retirement” the previous year, he was keen to usher in a success on a huge case like this one. She couldn’t help but worry about the fate of the whole operation though. With Tatleen’s attendance record decreasing and Steve’s first missed report, she had begun to clutch at straws. She desperately wanted this operation to go without a hitch. She really needed a positive in her life. But, at every turn, things seemed to be going pear shaped.</p><p>“Morning Kate,” Hastings smiled, perching a seat next to her at the desk. She turned from her computer and smiled at him. She hoped he couldn’t see the worries stacked on her shoulders. “Any new leads? What did Steve have to say for himself?”</p><p>She stalled for a second, a little unsure of how to broach the subject and she could see, from the way his smile had dropped, her immediate silence had flagged up some concerns. She bit her lip and raised a hand to awkwardly push her hair from her face as she desperately searched for the right thing to say.</p><p>“Kate?”</p><p>She cleared her throat softly and gestured to his office so that they could talk privately without the gossiping ears of the main office. He led the way and she followed him into the room where she closed the door behind him. She could tell he was a little unsure if he wanted to hear what she had to say just from him choosing to stand rather than sit at his desk.</p><p>“Well?”</p><p>“Steve… he…” she could barely let herself rat him out but she knew that she had to. “I’ve lost contact with him, sir.” It was him who went silent this time and raised his fist to his mouth, clearly deep in thought.</p><p>“Alright Kate,” he said as he stood from where he’d been perched against the desk. “Let’s not panic. Try him again in the morning.” She nodded to him in understanding though she could tell, even he wasn’t sure. She wondered if maybe he was thinking what she was thinking. She was worried about Steve and it was taking every part of her being not to go over to check to see if he was even still alive though she didn’t allow herself to think of the worst case scenario for long.</p><p>“Do you think it was a mistake, sir?” she quizzed, unable to keep it to herself. Instantly, he shook his head. His quick response told her everything she needed to know. He wasn’t sure.</p><p>“The date for his Occupational Health visit has come through. December 28<sup>th</sup>. We’ll talk more then.” He replied and turned to head to his desk chair which Kate took as her cue to leave.  She headed back to her desk and she was shocked to see a weary looking Tatleen organising herself at the desk next to Kate’s.</p><p>“Tatleen?” she quizzed to the younger woman who turned to face her. Kate had to stop herself from gasping at the young woman who looked visibly ill. “You feeling any better?” she asked, though instantly she knew it wasn’t a very helpful thing to ask. It was obvious that things hadn’t really improved. Kate hated too that sympathy was not her first thought. At first she felt annoyed. She was annoyed at how Tatleen being sick was impacting the operation.</p><p>“I’m okay ma’am,” she replied though it was clear that she wasn’t being entirely sincere. Kate mirrored Tatleen’s unsure expression though she decided not to push it. For Tatleen’s sake and the operation. She turned to her desk momentarily and picked up a folder and turned back to Tatleen, ready to show her the contents.</p><p>“Right. When you were abse-,” Kate pulled her eyes from the file at the sound of gagging coming from the younger woman. Kate cringed a little as she desperately grabbed the nearby bin from under her desk for Tatleen just in the nick of time. <em>Another day alone</em> she thought to herself as she averted her gaze from the sight of Tatleen hunched over the small bin,</p><hr/><p>Steve had hoped he’d find some solace in his cigarette break with Becky, one of the DB9 DCs though he felt almost stupid believing that one small cigarette would ease the burning pain which had taken over his being. He could hear Becky jabbering away to him. She was a nice girl, quite young and not long on the job. He supposed that in days of old maybe she’d have been a target of his. Of course, he still admired her sleek figure and long blonde hair which she’d scooped up for work but he had other things on his mind now. He could think of nothing more than the ache in his back and in his mind.</p><p>“DS Arnage, are you even listening?” she asked, raising her brow at him. He almost missed her talking to him and he was grateful for her clumsy use of his title. He couldn’t afford to let his cover slip, especially in this state so he knew it was important to listen out for his pseudonym.</p><p>“Sorry,” he replied as he took another long drag from what was his second cigarette. “What were you saying?” She didn’t reply, instead she looked at him, taking her eyes from his legs which were balanced  against the wall, taking in his slightly creased shirt and clumsily tied tie. She studied his face for a bit longer and he felt ever so vulnerable as she did. His eyes were had sunk into his face, bloodshot zigzags filling their whites. Underneath, his eyes were weighed down with black circles that resembled something from outer space. Ordinarily, she’d have assumed he was perhaps a little tired until she spotted the glisten of sweat on his forehead. It was below zero outside; she was wrapped in a thick parka and yet here he was, stood across from her, standing only in his blazer, jittering – though she was sure he wasn’t shivering – with sweat forming on his worried brow. She may have been an inexperienced detective, but she’d worked in a drug squad long enough to know what was wrong.</p><p>“What do you take?” she casually quizzed as she too took another drag from the cigarette he’d given to her. She could see from the shock and shear fear on his face that he’d never been caught out before. She could see the cogs turning ferociously in his head as he desperately tried to cover his tracks.</p><p>“What are you talking about?” he retorted in his best assertive tone. He could have kicked himself at the worried and telling sound which passed his lips. He felt his whole body warm and his muscles stiffen. <em>Not here, not here </em>he quietly begged to himself, desperate not to show weakness here, or anywhere. She stepped closer to him and let her bodily collide with his. Steve felt his breathing stop momentarily and his eyes anxiously met hers and even he wasn’t sure if he was anxious, intimidated, in pain or if maybe he wasn’t as satisfied as he thought. Or maybe a combination.</p><p>“I’m not stupid,” she whispered. He felt himself shudder slightly at her tone and instantly he felt himself unable to move, his burning cigarette dropping to the ground beside him. If he was honest, he didn’t really want to move either for he was sure that it would take very little to push him into a full blown panic attack. “I’ve worked DB9 long enough Steve.” She smirked, almost manically, pushing herself further into his warm body. She could see him take in a small gulp and she almost took pleasure in the radiating desperation and panic from her superior. She pulled a small note from her pocket and pulled her hand across his body, causing him to gasp a little before she settled the note into his pocket.  “I know a guy,” she said and nodded to where she’d just left the paper.</p><p>“No,” he replied, finally finding some courage to speak in a desperate attempt to pretend that he wasn’t tempted. It didn’t satisfy her though, instead it cause her to laugh and step back from him momentarily. He felt a little more able to breathe without her body pressed up against his.</p><p>“Don’t lie to yourself, <em>Sarge</em>,” she snorted, and pushed herself into him again, taking some sort of sick pleasure from his discomfort, “a junkie needs a fix…”</p><p>And with that, she pulled herself away from Steve and looked him up and down before scoffing at him, shaking her head and walking away. He allowed himself to gasp in relief before his panic resettled. He’d been outed.</p><hr/><p>It was a few hours later and Steve had managed to resist the urge to call the number on the post it note given to him by DC Yardley. He’d felt distracted the entire day though, his symptoms worsening as the day went on and by clocking off time he was completely clouded by his desires. He was desperate to leave the minute it turned to 5pm. He was gathering his stuff when his hairs stood on end at the sound of a familiar voice from behind him.</p><p>“Can’t help yourself, can you, <em>Sarge</em>?”</p><p>He didn’t allow himself to look at her. He didn’t need to look at her to see the smirk written all over her face, he could feel it dripping from her voice. He felt almost relieved as she sniggered and passed him to head out of the office. He left it a few moments before deciding to head towards his car.</p><p>When he finally manoeuvred himself into the seat and started the car, he drove to the T-junction where he stopped the car for a second. He pulled the postit note from his pocket and studied the address on the slip. He battled with his conscience, desperately wishing he could just ignore his aching, desperate mind and just go home. <em>Left or right, left or right, left or right.</em> He darted his eyes between the two carriageways as hopelessly tried to decide which path he was taking. The honk of the car behind him startled him and in that moment, he ignored his conscience, deciding to follow the route which would take him to the address given to him by Becky.</p><hr/><p>It wasn’t long before Steve pulled his service vehicle into a parking space outside the flashy apartment block which Becky had written on the note. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He knew he should be at home but he felt a shameful desperation and it was all he could think about. No matter how much he tried to forget it, no matter how much he tried to drown it with booze or smoke it away, it was there and the more he tried to ignore it, the more he felt sick to his core. He felt the shame and the guilt take over and he prized himself from the car and pressed the buzzer to the right flat. There was no response from the person at the other side of the intercom, only the sound of the door unlocking. He took an unsteady breath before he dragged himself up the flight of stairs which took him to the first floor flat. A guilt overwhelmed him and he turned to leave, but before he could he heard the door open.</p><p>“Steve?”</p><p>He felt the familiar feeling of anxiety wash over him again as he looked at the figure across from him. Of all the people he’d expected to see, this wasn’t it…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. It's a Matter of Time Before We All Run Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Gosh I even felt a bit bad writing this!!!!</p><p>Hope you enjoy and as always comment/tweet/theorise/kudos! :)</p><p>@howveryarnott </p><p>xx</p><p>Song: Misery Business – Paramore (a bop of my teenage years!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve looked at the man across from him, aghast to have seen <em>him</em> when the door opened. He shifted uncomfortable on his feet, desperately trying to think of an excuse, any excuse as to why he’d be at the other man’s door. He tried to speak, to come up with any excuse for his presence but the more he tried to think of one, the more his mind felt empty. His body felt intensely warm again and he felt a familiar queasiness accompany his crippling anxiety. He wished in that moment that he’d just gone home. He had known all along that coming here would be a mistake but he’d never imagined that he’d be stood, on the brink of a panic attack, a few feet away from a very familiar face.</p><p>“I never thought I’d see the day that you’d be lost for words!” the man retorted in a way which would ordinarily have irritated Steve. Not today though. The other man’s words caused him to avert his gaze to the ground momentarily in shame. He could think of one thing and one thing only and no matter how hard he tried to <em>feel</em> anything else, all he felt was desperation. “So, you coming in or not?” the man asked. Steve knew in his heart that this was his final chance to do the right thing. He looked up to the other man and he dared to look back at the stairs he’d just come up. He battled with the voice of his desperation which told him to go home. And he very nearly did. Almost. If he hadn’t heard the other man laugh at him when he contemplated leaving he thought maybe he’d have gone home. Instead, he found himself too weak to leave, deciding to follow the other man into the flat.</p><hr/><p>Kate felt a rush of relief wash over her as she stepped over the threshold of what was now her home as well as Steve’s. It’d been a long, arduous day and being on her own yet again really hadn’t helped. She was tired of the stress of work, she was tired of the stress of not seeing her son and most of all, she was tired of being alone with her own thoughts. She dragged herself to the sofa where she cast her satchel and jacket aside. She pulled her phone from her pocket and she hoped and prayed that maybe she’d have a reply from Mark. After all, the last time she’d seen Josh was when Steve had surprised her with him visiting. Mark had been difficult with her from the start, ever since he had found out about her affair, so she wasn’t shocked when she opened her phone to see there was no reply. Even though she wasn’t shocked, it didn’t make it hurt any less. It was beginning to weigh on her in the absence of anyone to talk to. She was about to cast her phone aside when she heard the ring of her text tone. She pulled it back in view, hopelessly wishing to see Mark’s name adorning the screen. Instead, she saw Tatleen’s name appear. She let out a groan before opening up to see what the younger woman had wanted.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Tatleen: Are you in?</em>
</p><p>Kate was a little shocked when she read the text though she quickly typed out a reply.</p><p>
  <em>Kate: Yeah. What’s up? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tatleen: Any chance I can pop round?</em>
</p><p>Kate supposed some company would be nice.</p><p>
  <em>Kate: Fire away! I’ve enough food for us both.</em>
</p><hr/><p>It wasn’t long before Kate had heard the sound of the intercom ringing from the kitchen. She had left the door ajar whilst she headed to the kitchen to fetch a bottle of wine and two glasses in the hope that Tatleen was feeling a little better. She had just set the bottle down on the table when she heard the door of the flat close. She turned to the younger woman with a smile on her face though her smile faltered when she set eyes on the younger woman who looked uneasy.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Kate asked, ushering Tatleen to the sofa. Tatleen settled on the sofa whilst Kate reached for the chilled bottle of white wine.</p><p>“I don’t even know where to begin,” Tatleen said, letting out a big sigh.</p><p>“How about at the beginning?” Kate replied, filling the two glasses with the golden liquid before extending one to the distressed younger woman. Tatleen shook her head at the offer, rejecting the wine from Kate.</p><p>“I can’t…”</p><p>Kate looked a little aghast, a little unsure as to why they couldn’t have a glass of wine, like they normally did. “Why not?”</p><p>“I… I um…” Tatleen paused, a little unsure of how to articulate her concerns to Kate. “Well, you know that I’ve been off?” she asked which earned her a nod from Kate. She sighed, unable to put her thoughts into words and instead she opened her handbag and passed a small plastic bag to Kate who put her own wine on the coffee table to look inside at the contents of the bag. Her eyes widened as she looked inside the bag and then returned her gaze to Tatleen whose fear was now etched across her tired face.</p><p>“Shit,” Kate sighed, pulling the rectangle box from the plastic bag. “Have you taken a test yet?” she asked, looking towards Tatleen who shook her head ferociously.</p><p>“Uh…no. I couldn’t do it on my own,” she admitted to Kate. Kate sighed softly before sending a reassuring, motherly smile to the scared younger woman across from her.</p><p>“Well there’s no time like the present, eh?” she smiled encouragingly to Tatleen. Tatleen bit her lip and nodded, taking the box from Kate’s extended hand, before turning to head to the bathroom. “Tatleen?” Kate spoke, causing the woman to turn. “It’ll be alright.” Her reassurance, whilst it seemed to placate Tatleen, didn’t reassure her herself. This was all they needed.</p><hr/><p>Steve followed the other man into the flat where he took a good look at the layout of the property. There were several doors leading off from the hallway. The one he was led to was clearly the lounge and he passed one, very clearly a child’s playroom or bedroom and another adjacent to it which was locked from the outside. He thought it odd that someone would have a lock inside their home but he knew, when he was the one asking for help, it wasn’t the place for inquisition. He was ushered to a plush sofa in the lounge area before he could visually search the lavish property any further.</p><p>“So, thought you didn’t have a problem?” the man said, taunting Steve again.</p><p>“I don’t,” Steve replied, finally allowing himself to look at the other man in the eye. The other man laughed at Steve who he was sure was only convincing himself at this point.</p><p>“Oh come off it Steve! Look at you!” the man scoffed in a raised voice. “You’re sweating like a pig in the middle of bloody December,” he remarked, lowering his tone and stepping into Steve’s personal space, “I know a desperate junkie when I see one. I’ve seen enough.”</p><p>Steve looked to the ground, now unable to think of anything further to defend himself. In that particular moment, Steve didn’t felt helpless. He was ashamed of himself, he hated that he’d stooped to this level, but most of all, he wanted to feel numbness.</p><p>“I-I just need something to stop the pain,” Steve whimpered. He no longer had the courage or strength to keep up the pretence of strength. He didn’t care if the other man saw him as weak because he <em>was</em> weak.</p><p>“That’s what they all say!” the man laughed. He was enjoying watching Steve squirm desperately.</p><p>“Can you help me or not?!” Steve begged. He wasn’t proud of himself.</p><p>“Say please.”</p><p>Steve considered his pride, if only for a split second, and he considered if he really did need help from this man. And he was strong, for a split second but he knew that he could not leave this man’s flat without what he had come for. He looked around the flat, surveying the various university certificates scattered across the wall and he caught glimpse of one particular photo of the man, his wife and child. It was a photo which reminded him just how much he hated what he had become. He loathed himself and yet he knew, the only way he was going to be able to carry on, was with the help of the supposed healthcare professional towering above where he sat on the sofa.</p><p>“<strong>Please help me</strong>.”</p><p>“There’s a good boy,” the man sniggered as he headed out of the room and Steve could hear him opening the key to the locked room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. It Feels Like All our Lives Have Changed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hello!!!</p><p>This, I have to admit, is a very bish-bosh chapter. It isn't what I wanted to produce but there we have i. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.</p><p>Usual story of theorise/comment/kudos/tweet me 💓 </p><p>@howveryarnott</p><p>PS. I've just finished rewatching Series 1. See if you can spot the line "borrowed" from it! 😉 </p><p>Song: Lonely – Justin Bieber (actually a very good song!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kate sat on the sofa for what felt like hours waiting for Tatleen though it could only have been a few minutes. The suspense made her restless and she felt as if she couldn’t sit still. All of their lives – her’s, Steve’s and Tatleen’s – were already a disaster as it was. For one, she could see from the utter despair on Tatleen’s face that she hadn’t been thinking of children for a long time and Kate assumed that she’d probably want to wait longer than three months or so into a relationship. For Steve, his life was already a rocky, turbulent road. Every time it seemed like Steve was getting back on track, another curveball would come his way. She couldn’t predict how he’d react if Tatleen’s test returned a positive result. She couldn’t even fathom what would happen if Tatleen was pregnant. She wasn’t sure she could support Tatleen into motherhood when she was facing such a tough relationship with her own son and Tatleen didn’t have anyone else, especially with Steve over in Birmingham. She supposed the news of good life was always good news in a way, she just wasn’t sure it was the sort of good news any of them needed. She was pulled from her thoughts though, when Tatleen emerged from the bathroom with the test in hand, a fearful look plastered over her tired face. Kate’s felt the suspense in the air though as the look on Tatleen’s face failed to answer the question of the hour.</p><p>“Well?” Kate asked, finally having the courage to break the silence. Tatleen dared to look down at the test again and then back to Kate and shook her head.</p><p>“It’s still loading,” Tatleen replied, walking to sit next to Kate on the sofa. Kate nodded as she did and they settled on an agreeable though nervous silence. Tatleen placed the test, screen side down on the table in an attempt to prolong the wait. Kate’s nerves were in pieces and so she took to pouring herself another glass of wine. They sat in silence for a few minutes more, neither of them brave enough to look at the test. It was Kate who decided to break the silence. She wasn’t sure what came over her when she took Tatleen’s hand in her own comforting hold. She felt a little shocked at herself at first, but the look on Tatleen’s face told her she’d done the right thing.</p><p>“You ready?” Kate whispered to the nervous woman beside her. Tatleen nodded but stayed rigid to the spot. It was Kate who reached forward and turned the test over. She looked at the screen and then looked towards the nervous woman beside of her.</p><p>“What does it say?” Tatleen said, her voice no louder than a whisper and yet dripping with nerves. Kate stayed silent before letting out a soft sigh.</p><p>“It’s positive.”</p><hr/><p>After only a short while in the man’s flat, Steve found himself in the hallway where the man handed the small box of pills to him. As soon as the small box of prescription pills even caressed Steve’s clammy hands, he almost felt a relief wash over him. He wouldn’t be totally relieved until he’d opened the box and taken one of the pills he so desperately craved but even the sight of the box was somewhat calming. He looked to the pills in his hand and he tried to ignore the guilt, the feeling of wrong doing as he dared to look at the man in front of him.</p><p>“You can’t wait to get it open, can you?” the man spat out at Steve. Steve wished he could argue, he wished he could tell the man that he was wrong and that he didn’t need his help. But he did.</p><p>“I guess not,” he whispered in reply, his tone so deep in shame it was almost inaudible. His eyes darted to the ground and he wished he could just go. He hated that he’d gotten himself into this position, desperate and pathetic inside the flat of a man he didn’t even like. He was so consumed by his anxieties that he was taken aback when the black-haired man harshly pushed him, forcing him to collide with the wall of the hallway. He tried not to, but he couldn’t keep it in and he yelped in pain the minute his body went hurtling into the wall the crash against it causing the pain to erupt inside his already weak and tired body. He had barely composed himself, barely allowed himself to catch his breath when he felt the man place his cold hand around his chin, forcing Steve to look the man straight in the eyes.</p><p>“I don’t want your copper mates hearing about this, you got that?” he growled to Steve. Steve nodded but stayed silent besides the unsteady sound of his laboured breathing. The man shook his head and pushed Steve into the wall once more, letting out a controlling snigger as Steve recoiled in pain. “I can’t hear you, Steve.” He said, pulling Steve’s chin up once more. “This is between me and you. Yes?”</p><p>Steve nodded again, “yes, Mark,” he spluttered, unable to stop the tears sliding down his face, his anxiety taking over completely. Steve was grateful, though uneasy, when he heard the call of Kate’s son from the second floor of the flat.</p><p>“Daddy?” Josh called out, clearly startled by the unfamiliar sounds, especially when he was already in bed. Steve was relieved though because Mark instantly let go of Steve, allowing him to gasp for some air as he began to feel at least a little less anxious. Mark turned to look at the stairs before he turned to look at Steve once more, the evil glint glistening in his eyes. He opened the door and once again took Steve by the scruff of his neck.</p><p>“Now get the fuck out of my house!” he growled in a hushed voice, careful not to alert his son, before tossing Steve to the door outside of the flat by the colour of his shirt, sending Steve and his box of pills hurtling to the ground.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. UPDATE</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hello everyone 😊 <br/><br/><br/>I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry there's not been an update for so long. I promise you I've sat down to it a couple of times now but I really just can't seem to get it to be what I want it to be...if that makes sense?<br/><br/>I promise you this story will have an end (a friend did mention the possibility of things being left incomplete – that WILL NOT happen) but I just need some time to figure that out. I'll try sort something out at the weekend!<br/><br/><br/><strong>In the mean time</strong> if you're a Bodyguard fan (if not - get on Netflix!!!) my BG fanfic "Numb" is live now and I am updating that regularly. That should keep you going until then 😉 .<br/><br/><br/>In the mean time I hope you're all well! I'll just go back to scooping Steve off the concrete now 😂 .<br/><br/><br/>Much love &amp; thank you for all your kind words 💓 <br/>@howveryarnott xx<br/><br/></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. All My Pictures Seem to Fade to Black and White</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>So how is Steve getting on out there in the cold? And what's next for Tatleen after finding out that she's having Steve's baby?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello everyone! </p><p>Thank you so, so much for your patience with this next chapter! I know I always say I'm super busy and I have been sorta busy this time I've actually mostly, probably like most of us, been really struggling through this second lockdown coupled with the Winter. I did do some writing but only on my Bodyguard fanfic "Numb". Just couldn't get inspo on this one. I have to admit though, I'm always super touched when people ask when the next chapter is coming. Anyways, enough about me. I hope you guys enjoy this one. I hope it's not a let down after all the time you've all so patiently waitied. Let me know what you think in the comments or tweet me :) </p><p>Much love as always. </p><p>@howveryarnott x</p><p>Song: Don't Let The Sun Go Down on Me – Elton John (this has major Steve-should-be-asking-for-help vibes) (and Elton John/Rocketman is my latest thing)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Steve finally plucked up the courage to push himself from the ground outside Mark’s flat, his entire being ached from the collision his body had made with the hard floor. When he’d first hit the floor, he’d felt a wash of pain like he was sure he’d never felt before erupting over his already fragile body. It must have taken him nearly twenty minutes to get from the floor to his car. He was grateful that the hallway had been empty – he’d have been so ashamed for someone to see him in his current state. He knew he looked dreadful. His brown eyes were clouded, surrounded by deep black circles and his hair was dishevelled from where he’d dragged a tired, shaky hand through it. His tie was carelessly pulled down – as it usually was these days – and his shirt hung loosely over his trousers, his waistcoat long since unbuttoned and flailing to the side. His dark trousers bore the marks of his collision with the concrete floor, white dust from his ankle to his hip. If his back had been sore before, he wasn’t sure how to quantify the pain he felt when he limped back to his car – his service vehicle no less. It was nothing short of a feat that he’d made it from the building to the car but it didn’t<em> feel</em> like something to celebrate. Sitting in his <em>police</em> service vehicle, looking like he should be sat in the back, with a pack of illegal, technically class A drugs? He felt shame like he’d never felt before.</p><p>Steve wasn’t quite sure how he mustered the strength to walk the short distance from the underground carpark to his temporary flat but it had been a relief when he finally had. He could look and feel pathetic without anyone seeing. He wasn’t patient enough to hang his blazer on the hook when he entered instead discarding it carelessly next to the door. He knew he should eat – he was hungry – and yet he couldn’t bear it. He did drag himself to the fridge and it took him all his strength to reach into the door and pull out the crate of cool beer. The tears prickled at the corner of his eyes as the weight of the six pack threatened to push him over the edge. He did pull it down eventually and he shuddered slightly at his own feebleness. Still. He needed a drink. He took it to the living room where he slowly lowered his battered body down onto the blue sofa where he placed the crate on the table and turned his attention to  the small box which was poking out from his inside the pocket of his suit trousers. He’d managed to restrain himself until now, the shame putting him off devouring the entire pack of pills the moment his body crashed against the stone cold floor outside Mark’s flat. Now though, alone in his flat, with nobody to catch him, nobody to judge him, or worse, pity him, the anxious voice in his mind reared its ugly head and reminded him how much he <em>needed</em> relief.</p><p>The box looked remarkably like the real deal – so much so Steve was sure that even as a detective he’d never notice it to be counterfeit – its packaging matched the ones Steve had <em>actually</em> been prescribed and Steve wondered if Mark had simply taken it from the pharmacy. He didn’t allow himself to consider it for too long – that would have been admitting his own wrongdoing – and instead he cracked open one of the cool beers. He cast the pills away. <em>I don’t need them</em> he thought to himself and as he pulled the beer to his mouth, he really did try to convince himself and yet, less than a minute later, he found himself drawn to the box again. He was sore, so very, very <strong><em>sore</em></strong> – inside and out – and he hated what he had become, he hated that he was breaking the law for relief and yet, he needed it. The river of shame trickled over the edge of his eyes and down his face in steady streams as he reached for the pack again. His back burned with every muscle that allowed his manoeuvre and his heart felt like it could beat completely out of his chest and yet, as he pushed two of the pills from the pack and hurried them into his mouth, he felt relief. He felt relief as he felt the two pills sliding down his gullet mixed with the lager. He felt relief and he hated that he did.</p>
<hr/><p>There was a crisp chill in the air of Steve’s flat when Kate got up the next morning. She was careful not to make too much noise as she made her way through the flat to make herself the strongest of coffees for such an early morning. Today she was up much before dawn to attempt to make contact with Steve again. She was desperate to make contact with him today. Of course, operationally, she had to find out more about DB9 from the inside but most of all she wanted to know that he was alright.  Especially considering what she and Tatleen had found out the evening before. She was quiet so as to not wake Tatleen who she’d let stay over after the drama of the night before and so she was peacefully asleep in Steve’s bed. The news had been a shock – and it appeared to have been as much of a shock to Tatleen as it was to Kate. She did wonder how they could have been so stupid but she didn’t wish to imagine just <em>how </em>they were in their current predicament. A tiny human though. A mini Steve – Life was already complicated enough as it was for them all. A new life was another complication that Kate wasn’t sure even she had the space to process, never mind Tatleen. And especially not Steve.</p><p>It wasn’t long before the scheduled time came to call Steve. Since it was the middle of December, it was still dark outside and the chill in the room hadn’t subsided. She pulled a throw over her as she settled on the sofa with her coffee and her pocketbook and pen. Placing her coffee down, she pulled up the contact for Steve and dialled the number. She felt a little nervous and she couldn’t really explain why – maybe it was because she needed some leads on the case or at least, she tried to convince herself that was why but every time she called Steve she felt that little bit more uneasy.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Ring, ring.<br/>
</em>
    <em>Ring, ring.</em>
    <em> <br/>
</em>
    <em>Ring, ring.<br/>
</em>
    <em>Ring, ring.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Ten times she heard the line ring for before she heard his voice. Though she’d been too lost in thought at first to realise that it was an automated recording of his voice. “Shit,” she muttered to herself before dialling the number again.</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Ring, ring.<br/>
</em>
    <em>Ring, ring.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>Another ten rings passed, each as agonising as the last. She felt as if her heart had physically stopped whilst she waited again to hear his voice. Yet again, she was met with his answering machine. She considered leaving a message, anything to confirm he was even still okay but she knew that was too risky and against protocol entirely. She was beginning to wonder if sending Steve away was the right thing after all. Sure, she hadn’t wanted to challenge Hastings – especially after Steve had done so himself – but she had her reservations. She only wished she’d raised them with Hastings. <em>Try him again,</em> she thought to herself. And so she did. Twice, three times, four times.</p>
<hr/><p>Steve groaned as he lolled uncomfortably on the floor as the rising sun beat through a gap in his living room blind. He cursed to himself as the pain shot through his lower back as he twisted to avoid the light. Every bone in his body ached, every muscle screamed in a new found agony and as his eyes adjusted to the scene before him, he saw the reasons for his pounding headache strewn across the floor of his flat. The entire crate of beer – and more it seemed – surrounded him, emptied, the contents surely at least contributing to his headache. He surmised at least part of his pain was down to the fact he was sat on the floor, propped up only by the edge of the sofa. He was still in his blue shirt and dust covered navy suit. He couldn’t remember falling asleep and he <em>wished</em> he couldn’t remember how he got there in the first place. The small rectangular box caught his eye though he’d be lying to himself if he said it hadn’t been the first thing he’d considered when he felt the pain rippling around his tired body. When he picked up the pack, he was a little startled to see another two missing. He knew he shouldn’t take anymore. He allowed himself to consider, for a split second, asking for help. Only a split second though. Instead he pushed another two pills from the pack. He looked at the two as they sat in his hand and considered for a moment if it was a good idea. It didn’t take him long to put them in his mouth, washing them down with the dregs of a leftover beer.</p><p>He groaned, reaching into his pocket for his phone to find out what the time was. He was on the backshift that day so it didn’t really matter what the time was. It was just that he’d woken delirious and only because of the sun beating in his window. It was unsettling to wake up in such strange circumstances. When he pulled up the phone he instantly felt a tightness in his chest as he realised he’d missed Kate’s calls. Plural. She’d called six times. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, chucking the phone to the floor. That was the second call of hers – it could mean the end of the operation. Either that or he’d be considered to have gone rogue. Or maybe not. It depended how she dealt with it. It didn’t matter how many times Steve played each situation in his head – everyone made him feel as sick and ashamed as the last.</p>
<hr/><p>Kate tried to think of way to avoid telling Tatleen that Steve seemed to be MIA without worrying the poor girl – who she felt had enough to contend with – but each situation she tried to invent seemed as silly as the rest. She was grateful she had a case review that morning with Hastings – it meant she’d be walking out the door or even gone by the time Tatleen got out of bed and she hoped that meant Tatleen wouldn’t have to find out until later that Steve had gone off grid. But, as she pulled on her coat and draped her satchel over the shoulder she heard the squeaking noise of the door to Steve’s room and she grimaced at the noise, turning to see Tatleen in Steve’s dressing gown.</p><p>“Morning,” she smiled to Tatleen who pulled a tired hand through her hair.</p><p>“You’re early this morning?” Tatleen commented, clearly still half asleep as she began to make her way to the kitchen.</p><p>“I’ve a meeting with the gaffer,” Kate replied as she grabbed her keys. She hoped she’d managed to dodge the question.</p><p>“Ah okay,” Tatleen replied, heading into the kitchen. Kate took it as her chance and let out a sigh of relief, clambering to push her key into the lock but before she could manage to get the key in the door, she heard Tatleen again. “How did it go?” She muttered an expletive under her breath before turning to Tatleen.</p><p>“Fine,” she replied and plastered a smile onto her face. She felt her heart sink a little though when Tatleen crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow – a silent signa that she didn’t believe her. “He didn’t answer again.”</p><p>Kate shifted on her feet uncomfortably at the science that took over the room. Tatleen looked uncertain at first but soon enough, after some contemplation worry took over her face.</p><p>“What now?” she asked. Although she knew what Kate <em>had</em> to do, she didn’t really <em>want</em> her to do it. Kate raised her hand and rubbed her brow, shrugging to the woman across from her.</p><p>“I have no choice… I have to report it.”</p><p>Another silence filled the room and Tatleen looked away for a moment. It hadn’t been long between her and Steve but she really cared for him a great deal and, well, the tiny bundle of cells growing inside of her, though she’d only properly known less than twelve hours, seemed to intensify every worry she has about where Steve might be, if he was okay, if he needed help… She knew him well by now. He didn’t do well with too much time alone.</p><p>“Alright,” she finally replied, nodding to Kate though she was trying to convince herself as much as Kate. It worked though and Kate sent her a sympathetic smile and said something about seeing her later in the office before heading out of the flat and leaving Tatleen alone with all sorts of worries about Steve floating around in her mind.</p>
<hr/><p>Kate had arrived at the office not long after talking with Tatleen for a meeting with Hastings to review the case into DB9. She’d been dreading telling Hastings about Steve probably even more than telling Tatleen. She knew he’d tried to help Steve by giving him an undercover to occupy his mind – she knew he’d be disappointed in himself as well as with Steve. He’d always had a soft spot for Steve.</p><p>“Mother of god…” Hastings sighed as he realised the full gravity of what Kate had just told him. It’d been more than two weeks since they’d last heard from an undercover, potentially vulnerable officer. That coupled with AC-12’s rotten luck of late troubled Hastings. They needed to find Steve. “Right Kate. I need you to formally tell DI Hart that we’re investigating DB9.”</p><p>“Is that wise?” Kate asked, furrowing her brow. “We’ve scarcely built a case sir…”</p><p>Hastings nodded to her in understanding. She was right, they didn’t really have much on Hart yet. Other than Steve’s minor intelligence that there was <em>maybe</em> an inside man and some successful leads that Kate had followed up on, they weren’t really far from where they’d started. They were certainly a long way off serving a Reg 15.</p><p>“You’re right, Kate,” he nodded again but this time he tilted his head to the side and shrugged, pulling hand across his forehead. “It is what it is. I need you and Tatleen to head across there now, alright?”<br/>
<br/>
“Alright sir,” she replied and nodded, heading out of the office towards Tatleen’s desk. She was shocked to find the desk as it’d been when she arrived that morning. She tried to convince herself for a moment that she was grabbing herself a coffee but a quick scan of the coffee machine showed a civvie and certainly not Tatleen.</p><p>“Ron, any sign of DC Sohota this morning?” she asked a junior rank pointing to empty desk in front of her.</p><p>“No, Ma’am,” the voice replied and instantly Kate brought her hand to her forehead, taking a deep breath in to restrain herself from losing it right there in the office. She pulled her phone from her pocket and although she knew it would be pointless, she dialled Tatleen’s number and waited – hoped and prayed that the young woman was stuck in traffic and not where she knew that she was. The pre-recorded sound of Tatleen’s voice told her everything the needed to hear.</p><p>“Fuck,” she muttered to herself and headed in vain to tell Hastings that their luck was going from bad to worse.</p>
<hr/><p>Tatleen had wasted no time that morning in getting ready after Kate had left for work. It was the first time she could say she’d been grateful for the lack of appetite morning sickness had given her – it meant she didn’t have to waste precious time eating. She could focus all her efforts on getting dressed and driving across to Birmingham. She had hated being away from Steve but the news Kate had given her this morning, coupled with the news she’d discovered last night meant her mind was in over drive. She <em>had</em> to know that he was okay. She guessed Kate would be fuming when she found out but if she was totally transparent with herself, she didn’t really care. She had to know that he was alright. The hour’s drive between his flat and his temporary home had felt like a lifetime and of course it had taken doubly as long with the hundreds of other cars who were commuting to Birmingham for work. She wasn’t usually one for road rage but she did find herself throwing her arms up in frustration each time she was stopped in a queue of idle traffic on the M6. It felt like a lifetime when she finally made it to the door of Steve’s accommodation having scarcely abandoned her car on the street. If she hadn’t realised the extent of her feelings for Steve before, she certainly did when she stood outside the door of the first floor flat having ran up the stairs. She took a long satiating breath in before she raised her hand to the door, knocking confidently. After a moment of waiting, she knocked again, this time a little louder and yet, still nothing. She groaned and bent down, pulling the letterbox open.</p><p>“Steve!” she shouted into the opening in the door. “Steve! Steve?” Again, no reply. She resorted to knocking again and yet again, there was no reply. She stood back for a sec and took her head in her hands, desperately searching for a solution. She couldn’t call for backup – she knew Kate would be utterly fuming with her and she couldn’t call for local back up – she couldn’t risk exposing Steve’s undercover. She resorted to the most basic of solutions and reached for the door handle to see if perhaps he’d have forgotten to lock the door. She gasped when the door actually opened and she wasn’t entirely sure if she was shocked or angry at his stupidity but she pushed it to the back of her mind and she pushed the door open and closed it behind her, heading to the living area to see if she could find any clues. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting but her jaw dropped to the floor when she saw him.</p><p>He was still propped up against the sofa, completely unconscious. His tie was loosely hanging by the side of his body and his waistcoat flailed at either side of his body. His shirt was totally untucked and carelessly hung over his dirty trousers covered in white. His dejected form was surrounded by empty beer bottles – at least 8 that she could count – but it was the blister pack, settled on his belly where it’d fallen from his empty hand that caused a dizzying, nauseating feeling to take over her body. Her body moved, without her even thinking, almost as if she was functioning on autopilot and she quickly scurried over to him where she instantly checked for a pulse.</p><p>“Steve? Steve!” She shrieked, shaking his limp form. “Steve! It’s me! Wake up!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>:O </p><p>I'm sure a cliffhanger comes as no surprise to any of you 😂 </p><p>💓</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Is this the last time that I lay my eyes upon you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What has Tatleen walked in on? Will Steve be okay? Will Kate be able to keep Steve's conduct under wraps or will Steve find himself facing issues at work as well as at home?</p><p>Also in this chapter, Hastings gets a few shocks!!! 😉</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello! </p><p>Hope you're all well and that you all enjoy this update 💓 . Thank you for the comments as always. They really do make my day – even the anon ones 😂 . Let me know what ya think</p><p>@howveryarnott x</p><p>Song: The Last Time – The Script (my fave band!)</p><p>PS. Sorry you may have noticed I'm way too lazy for proof reading (also pls let me know if my continuity sucks!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The moment Kate realised where Tatleen must be her heart sank. As her superior, she was furious with Tatleen’s complete incompetency so much so that she struggled to remind herself of Tatleen’s general inexperience. She did try to remind herself that Tatleen hadn’t been a detective for long but Kate was ruthless – she couldn’t forgive Tatleen’s inexperience if that cost them their undercover on the DB9 case. As her friend though, she completely understood. As Steve’s friend, Steve’s closest friend no less, she understood <em>why </em>Tatleen had done it but actually doing it was a whole different ball game. It didn’t matter what Kate <em>felt</em> though, Tatleen was putting their entire operation and her own safety at risk. The added concern of pregnancy meant this was something Hastings had to know. Hastings had barely sat down from their original meeting by the time she’d knocked on his door again. She felt a dread in the pit of her stomach when she walked into his office and was met with his kind smile. Other than Steve’s lack of communication, things had been alright. This was sure to wipe the smile from his face.</p><p>“Sir, I’m afraid I’ve got bad news,” she stated simply. She hadn’t dared to make eye contact with Hastings. She knew Tatleen’s disappearance wasn’t entirely her fault but she knew as Tatleen’s commanding officer, she was sure to get a dressing down for it.</p><p>“Go on.” The nonchalant tone which accompanied his more solemn look unnerved Kate in the same way it had since she’d been a DC. She knew she was about to light a rage inside him. Desperate to appear collected, she pulled her hand to her forehead and lightly rubbed the surface as if that’d let out some of her discomfort.</p><p>“Tatleen – DC Sohota – she hasn’t reported for work,” she replied, finally daring to look at Hastings whose face, deep in consideration, gave her little comfort. The silence that engulfed the room as he thought over what she had said unsettled her even more.</p><p>“Right Kate I can tell something’s up so why don’t we just cut to the chase?” Hastings said, finally breaking the silence. She straightened her body and stood tall, feeling the need to brace herself when he knew the truth.</p><p>“I have a reasonable suspicion that DC Sohota’s travelled to DS Arnott’s undercover residence.” Her reply was matter-of-fact and informative and yet she could she the anger beginning to unfold on his face.</p><p>He pulled his hand down slightly from where it he’d rested it upon his lip before he began to speak “Right. Okay Kate, what makes you think that?”</p><p>She looked away from him and bit down hard on her lip as she tried to think of the easiest way to tell Hastings <em>how</em> she knew. Staring at her patent black brogues occupied her mind for a second before she looked back up at her boss whose patience was evidently wearing thin.</p><p>“I know because Tatleen stayed at mine last night,” she replied. He recoiled instantly at her reply and she could see his face distort in shock. He pulled his hand from his mouth and pointed towards her.</p><p>“You and Tatleen?” he asked, his voice riddled with shock. Flustered, his face had instantly turned red, as if the thought had taken him by complete surprise. She was sure that on a normal day she’d have enjoyed this situation but not today, she knew he wouldn’t be happy. She tried to interject, to correct his assumption but it was as if he was lost in his own thoughts, nattering to himself. “Well I have to say Kate I am surprised. I always thought yo-“</p><p>“Sir!” she exclaimed, finally losing her patience at his unwillingness to listen. She hadn’t realise how loud her voice had been and she was a little embarrassed until her outburst had the desired effect and Hastings returned his gaze toward her, her serious look in contrast to his bright red face. “It’s not me and Tatleen,” she scoffed, a little uncomfortable herself with the suggestion.</p><p>“I don’t follow?” he replied, furrowing his brow.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s Steve and Tatleen.” She physically stepped back from him as she spoke, as if he were a volcano teetering at erupting. She studied his face in an attempt to gage his reaction – at first he appeared shocked, almost like he didn’t believe it. He considered some more and for the shortest moment, she thought she’d been given a reprieve. Her relief did not last long though as he turned to look at her, almost dead in the eye.</p><p>“Well I take it from your sheepish look that on your face Kate that this isn’t exactly a new thing?” to the untrained ear, Kate was sure that Hastings looked and <em>sounded </em>calm but she knew him better than that. His voice was low, and his annunciation slow, coupled with the rubbing of his shaven face, she just <em>knew</em> he was far from calm.</p><p>“No sir,” she replied, looking away from him.</p><p>“Of for Christ’s sake Kate!” he shouted, throwing his hands up into the air. Kate winced at his volume and looking through the windows of his office, she could see others beginning to wonder what was going on. “You’re a senior officer! You have a duty to report these kinds of things to me!”</p><p>“Sorry sir,” she simply replied, turning to face him once more. “Look, sir, I withheld their relationship bec-“</p><p>“Relationship? Oh for Christ’s sake! Are there any other pieces of <strong><em>vital</em></strong> information you’ve decided to keep to yourself?” his voice, though quieter, was still etched with an angry tone. She contemplated sharing Tatleen’s news for a moment but she quickly decided that now, probably wasn’t the time to add salt to the wound.</p><p>“I’m sorry sir,” she replied, in what was close to a whisper and watched as he paced the room, presumably letting off some steam. She let him stew for a few moments, for her own sake as much as his, before she decided to break the silence. “Sir, am I okay to head across to Birmingham?”</p><p>He turned his head up to look and her, his finger resting back again on his lip. He simply nodded to her and muttered to her to take another a uniformed crew across to the city.</p>
<hr/><p>Tatleen felt as if her heart had stopped beating momentarily when she’d taken in the sight of Steve sprawled across the floor. She’d been anchored to the ground above him for what felt like minutes but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. His body was warm to the touch and as she’d placed her hands on his neck to check for a pulse, she’d been almost relieved to find his neck clammy and sweaty. She’d been grateful to see signs of life. She called his name a few times but nothing had seemed to take him from his unconscious state. She resorted to lightly shaking his body, careful not the wake him. The panic settled in the pit of her stomach when her attempts to rouse him failed and she racked her brain to try and remember what she’d learned from her first aid course. She unbuttoned the second and third button on his shirt and pulled his already loose tie from his neck, as if that might be the reason he wasn’t responding to her. She felt a stray tear slide down her cheek the longer he stayed unresponsive.</p><p>“Steve?” she asked quietly, almost in a begging tone, hoping it’d rouse him. She steadied her breathing which had become more laboured than she’d realised in her sheer panic to check on him and delved into her pocket for her mobile phone. She fumbled with the device and nearly dropped it several times attempting to open the call screen. She typed in the numbers one by one, <strong>9….9….9.</strong> Before pressing the call button, she took a sharp breath before deciding to try to wake him one more time herself. If an ambulance crew came, it was just another way for her to scupper his undercover. In a last ditch attempt to wake him, she grasped both of his warm shoulders in her hands and shook his body, still lightly but with a little more fervour than before. “Steve? Can you hear me?” The distinct roll of his head followed by a barely audible groan gave her the relief she’d been looking for.</p><p>“Oh Steve! Thank god!” She instantly fell back against the sofa beside him and watched as he wriggle into a state of consciousness, albeit a confused consciousness. He pulled a hand to his head and let out another groan. “Steve? It’s me.” Tatleen rubbed his shoulder slightly to indicate her presence but he jumped slightly at her touch and his eyes shot open. The shock littered his face as he looked at the woman across from him.</p><p>“Tat? What…What are you… What are you doing here?” His voice was groggy and husky from lack of use. She was relieved to hear his haphazard attempt at interrogation but she was irked nonetheless that he seemed oblivious to the stress he’d caused her mere moments ago.</p><p>“Are you alright?” She ignored his question and instead she tried to place a hand upon his forehead to see if he was still so warm but she didn’t quite make contact with his skin before he pulled away from her touch.</p><p>“Tat, I’m fine… Why are you here?” She found herself scoffing at him as he pulled himself up onto the sofa and pulled his tie over his head which was home to the world’s worst hangover. She too pulled herself from the ground where she’d been sat next to Steve and stood slightly back from him, now satisfied that he was okay upon watching him hastily cast his tie to the ground.</p><p>“You’ve been out of contact with Kate… I was worried.” He pulled his head from his hands and she could have sworn she felt a stabbing pain in her heart from the look he gave her. He scrunched his brow sand glared towards her. Steve made her feel lots of things but <em>worthless</em>? That was new and it stunned her to silence.</p><p>“Out of contact?” he scoffed, pulled his head back and scrunched his face in bewilderment. “I miss two calls and now I’ve gone rogue?”</p><p>Tatleen shook her head in protest at his suggestion, “it’s not like that Steve. You know that. It’s just…” she stopped herself before continuing. He was still glaring towards her and despite her standing over him his glare still intimidated her. “Kate’s got to… you know?”</p><p>“No, I don’t know, actually! What does Kate have to do?” His tone was sharp and perfectly complimented the piercing glare upon his sullen face, the dull ache in his back the only thing stopping him from getting to his feet. It unnerved her a little to see him behaving in such a way.</p><p>“You know she has to report to the gaffer…” Her reply was brief but it quickly elicited an angry snigger from the man across from her who still sat on the edge of the sofa.</p><p>“She didn’t <em>have</em> to do anything,” he spat towards Tatleen. She let out an angry groan as she found a strength within to stand up for herself and Kate.</p><p>“Look Steve! We’ve done nothing but look out for you – me and Kate – she’s put her entire job at risk for <strong><em>you</em></strong><em>!” </em></p><p>A silence filled the room for a split second as they both assessed Tatleen’s sudden, out of character outburst. It was Steve who broke the silence as he shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. He pushed himself from the sofa, wincing half way as he did. He caught Tatleen’s concerned expression in the corner of his eye and he cringed at himself for showing yet more weakness.</p><p>“I need a cigarette.”</p><p>He grabbed the box and lighter from the small coffee table and headed to the balcony area overlooking the city. It wasn’t until he reached the veranda clad in just yesterday’s shirt that he realised just cold it was outside. He detested the cold even more since his injury. Shivering seemed to cause shockwaves of pain in his back as if he didn’t suffer enough already, though admittedly he’d caused his own pounding headache. He felt a small comfort at least as he lit and took a long, calming drag from his cigarette. No sooner than he began to feel the calming effects of the nicotine, Tatleen sheepishly joined him on the balcony. He looked at her properly this time and finally admired her, taking her in from head to toe, the low winter sun perfectly highlighting her slender figure. Taking in her appearance almost entirely extinguished his anger and it was instead replaced with a familiar anxiety in the pit of his stomach and perhaps almost remorse.</p><p>“I don’t know what else you expected Kate to do,” she asked, in what he recognised to be a kind tone. He looked away from her. He didn’t feel worthy of her kindness after the tone he’d used with her before. “Besides Steve, surely she was right to be worried about you?”</p><p>Instantly he snapped his head back round to resume glaring at her. It happened almost involuntarily and the sour look on his face didn’t match the tightness in his chest and the overwhelming nausea he seemed hardly able to control these days.</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?” It was as if someone else had uttered those words – he could scarcely believe it himself. His heart seemed to still for a moment seeing the hurt etched across Tatleen’s face.</p><p>“Well, I’ve just found you, slumped on the sofa, surrounded by empty beer bottles in the middle of the morning…” She was right and he knew it couldn’t have looked good, her seeing him in that state the same day he’d missed Kate’s call.</p><p>“So what? I have a few drinks and suddenly I’m crazy?” He barely recognised his own voice and he could tell she struggled too.</p><p>“What about the pills?” It was those four words, addressing the elephant in the room, that finally floored him. He thought maybe the glare on his face had faltered, at least for a moment. It was too soon. He wasn’t ready for her help. He so desperately wanted to tell her the truth but instead, as if someone else were in control of his body, he cast his smouldering cigarette to the ground and steadily approached her until he was so close to him she could feel his breath on her skin and she could smell him. He smelt like Steve, like toasted marshmallow and pine but it was masked by the aroma of stale beer, the suffocating stench of a freshly smoke cigarette and a little of sweat. His glare pierced her skin as he towered over her and it forced her to look away. She shifted awkwardly away from him but each shuffle she made he closed the gap a little more.</p><p>“For my back,” he simply stated in an emotionless tone, “remember how I was you know <strong><em>thrown down the stairs?</em></strong>”</p><p>“I don’t have to take this from you.” She knew her voice was weak but she finally found it in her to look him in the eyes. She could see the red lines littering his tired eyes but she struggled to see through his intimating stance. He scoffed at her reply, turning away as he did and almost instantly she saw her chance to go back into the flat to collect her bag she’d dropped on the way in.</p><p>“Sorry?” he asked, a little confused at her reaction, or at least, that’s how he tried to make it sound. She turned to look at him as he followed her inside and instead it was her glaring at him.</p><p>“I don’t need this.” She simply stated and turned to grab her bag and head to the door.</p><p>“Excuse me?” He asked again, hurt that he’d caused her to behave like that. She stopped, dead in her tracks but chose not to turn to face him again. Steve could have sworn she’d said something but it had been so quiet he’d struggled to hear her. “What did you say?”</p><p>And with that, she turned to face him, with a stray tear finding its way down her face. It caused his heart to flip – he felt a terrible guilt rage through his tired body. He so wanted to go and comfort her but as she repeated what she’d said, he felt himself rooted to the ground across from her and he hated that she wasn’t the first thing on his mind. There was only one thing he desired more than anything in the world the moment the words left her mouth and, of course, as usual, he hated himself for it.</p><p>“I don’t need this because <strong><em>I’m pregnant</em></strong>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Untitled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>How will Steve react to Tatleen's news? Has Tatleen compromised AC-12's inquiry into by risking visiting Steve?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay firstly let me apologise for the time it's taken for me to update this. I've been going mad for Line of Duty 6 and I'm shocked at how many theories of mine (and many others) have been so close. Are you guys enjoying that too?</p><p>Welcome to any new readers, also! I've written a a wee Flemson fic (it's called "Feelings") and I'd love if you'd check that out. You never know when Jo might appear in ACTTL...</p><p>Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this and I am so sorry for the wait. </p><p>Much love,<br/>@howveryarnott x</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve had barely a minute to process what Tatleen had said before she turned to leave his flat.</p><p>“No, Tat, wait!” He was grateful that she didn’t make him run after her – he wasn’t sure he had the energy anymore – and instead she turned to face him this time and he could see that she’d been crying <em>as if he didn’t feel bad enough already. </em>He just didn’t know what to say, he could barely believe what she had said. He wanted to go to her; he wanted to comfort her and take her pain away, the pain he had caused.  “I…um…how?”</p><p>He could have sworn he almost saw her lips curl into a smile, presumably before she remembered just how vile he’d just been to her.</p><p>“Do I really have to explain to you?” He winced as she spoke and looked away momentarily. Her tone was harsh, like a dagger to his heart and yet he really couldn’t blame her.</p><p>“I suppose not,” he replied, still looking at his feet, still covered by his polished shoes which were scuffed from his tumble at Mark’s door. “So um…Is… is it mine?”</p><p>Instantly, the moment the words left his mouth, the minute he saw her gasp and the shock take over her face, he regretted what he had said. He didn’t even know why he had asked, it was such a stupid question and he could see, as Tatleen batted away angry tears, that he had <em>more than</em> crossed the line.</p><p>“I can’t believe that you would even <strong>dream</strong> of asking that!” Her voice was loud and yet he could hear the sadness in her voice. It felt as if the world had stopped turning temporarily and when he came to, she was already making her way out of his flat.</p><p>“Tat! Wait! I’m sorry,” he wished that he had the energy to chase after her but instead he watched as she raced down the stairs and as she disappeared from his line of sight he felt everything and yet nothing. He felt like he should probably be happy – after all he loved Tatleen – and yet all he felt was shame. He wished he could remember what happy really felt like.</p><hr/><p>“DI Fleming, AC-12. We have a lawful authority to investigate DB9 and seize all files relating to Operation Mersey. All officers go to your desks. You’ll each be questioned by an AC-12 caseworker. You’ll each be obliged to surrender all materials relating to Operation Mersey to said caseworkers. Failure to comply will be a breach of your duties and responsibilities under police conduct regs and may lead to a misconduct charge under said regs.”</p><p>Kate’d never admit it but this was one of her favourite parts of the job but this time, storming the offices of DB9, she was only interested in getting the job done and also making sure to see Steve alive and <em>well.</em> She’d also managed to make contact with Tatleen who she’d had a stern word with. Friend or no friend, she could have compromised the entire operation. Kate knew Hastings would have replaced Tatleen if they had <em>literally</em> anyone else capable. Tatleen was barely up to scratch, never mind anyone else.</p><p>As the other AC-12 officers questioned the DB-9 team, Kate knew she should deal with DI Hart and issue him his Reg 15 but allowing Tatleen to deal with Steve again was just too much of a risk.</p><p>“Tatleen,” she said, turning to her with the Reg-15, “could you please issue DI Hart with this? I am going to deal with DS Arnage.” Tatleen nodded towards her and she was sure, underneath Tatleen’s new found timidness after her telling off, that she could sense gratitude from her. She made a mental note to talk to her about that later as she headed over towards Steve. She almost let out a sigh of relief – if she hadn’t been trying to pretend she didn’t know him – when she saw him. Sure, he looked a little tired and maybe like he’d lost some weight but she put that down to his literal inability to cook. He looked healthy and that was enough for her.</p><p>“DS Arnage, please can you surrender all your files relating to Operation Mersey?”</p><hr/><p>Steve let out a sigh as the last of the AC-12 officers left the building. It was always stressful when you were undercover and you came across officers you knew but this time it had been particularly hard. DI Hart had taken the regulation 15 notice well but Steve still wasn’t convinced. Someone was turning a blind eye to or even colluding with organised crime and drug offences and Steve was determined to find out who. He groaned as he pulled his jacket on to go for a cigarette. He tried to disappear unscathed but as he neared the door, he was cornered by Becky. He swore he felt his heart skip a beat.</p><p>“That was stressful, wasn’t it, <em>Sarge?</em>” he detested that she had a power over him. Even her presence made his skin crawl. He cleared his throat and nodded towards her.</p><p>“I suppose so, DC Yardley,” he replied and pushed his hands into his trouser pockets nervously, trying to get past her to get outside for the cigarette he was oh-so desperate for. She reached up and placed a forceful hand on his chest to stop him moving by. They were so close that nobody could see and yet he tensed as her hand made contact with his chest.</p><p>“Of course, Sarge, it isn’t like you can rat to AC-12 anyway…”</p><p>He felt his chest tighten at the mention of AC-12 and as his head started to spin almost immediately. He could consider no other possibility other than his cover being blown.</p><p>“Uh…”  Becky sniggered at his failed attempt at a comeback and shook her head at him. She <em>really</em> enjoyed watching him squirm. She pushed her head closer to his ear so her warm breath made the hairs on the back of his neck shiver below lowering her voice to a whisper. “We wouldn’t want AC-12 to find out about your wee problem now, would we, <em>Sarge</em>?”</p><p>And with that, Becky stepped aside and watched as Steve squirmed away. As he wondered into the distance, taking the door to the stairwell, she laughed to herself almost manically before turning towards DI Hart’s office.</p><hr/><p>Steve had wanted nothing more than to finish his exhausting backshift and head back to his flat for the evening and yet he discovered it wasn’t his choice anymore. He was no longer in control of his urges and his urges drove him not home, but to Mark’s flat. He so desperately wanted to leave his car immediately and yet, something stopped him as he parked at the edge of the street. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the car, get what he came for and leave and yet, something about the two men standing outside the block of flats piqued his attention. He recognised the first man to be Mark… and the other…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coming next:</p><p>Who is chatting to Mark? Is Steve in danger? And what happens when someone takes a serious risk to save another?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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